


The Silas Enclave

by oldmountainsoul



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst and Feels, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmountainsoul/pseuds/oldmountainsoul
Summary: Carmilla didn't expect to fall out of the Underworld so soon after getting sent there for yet another of her mother's punishments.She also didn't expect the realm of the dead to take her memories from her when it spat her back out.And she certainly didn't expect to fall right into the arms of a tiny gay human who seemed to have more good intentions than good sense.As a 300 year old vampire with multiple trips to the Underworld under her belt, Carmilla had thought she'd run out of surprises for the world to throw at her. Until it decided to throw her at Laura Hollis, that is.Laura Hollis, who has a way of surprising her every day, who might even make the bizarre place that straddles the line between Life and Death called the Silas Enclave feel like a home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What do you do when your OG fiction isn't working with you for NaNoWriMo? Turn it into a fanfic, of course! So buckle up, creampuffs! I hope you enjoy this fantasy-kitchen-sink AU!

Carmilla came to slowly, curled up in a ball on the ground in the shade of a truly ancient oak tree, a cloak wrapped tightly around her, protecting her from the last rays of the setting sun. 

She faintly heard someone speaking to her, sounding as if they were far away, an ocean between them. The back of her neck prickled, and while she wasn’t able to understand the speaker, she could feel their proximity. 

Close.

Too close. 

Carmilla recoiled and hastily scrabbled backwards until her back hit the tree trunk. She clenched her fists and tried to collect herself. She made herself look up and suddenly, the fog lifted, the world coming into focus.

Where Carmilla had been lying in a heap on the ground stood a stranger, a young, fresh-faced human thing who looked to be around the same age as Carmilla had been at her death. She was roughly her size, if a little shorter. 

Unbidden, Carmilla's breath caught in her throat. (Later, she'd have the presence of mind to grumble and be embarrassed about that--hells, she was a _vampire._ She didn't even need to breathe at all.) The stranger was wreathed in the sort of gold light that covers the world at sunset, and as it caught the girl's honey-blonde hair, Carmilla couldn't help but think her the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. 

And the girl was reaching out for Carmilla. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed in genuine concern, and for a moment, Carmilla let herself get lost in those warm brown eyes.

 No, she didn't have the luxury of doing that, she was a monster, a failure, a tool, and Mother was already punishing her--where was she? Where was Mother?

Panic rose in her throat. She was in danger, she and the stranger. But from what? 'Mother?' Who was 'Mother?'

The details that seemed so important just a heartbeat before suddenly eluded her, dancing away just out of her reach. Where was she? What was going on? _Who_ was she?

_Danger,_ her mind screamed in response, a phantom heartbeat racing in her chest and blood roaring in her ears. She needed to move, to run, to hide, be anywhere but here--

The girl's eyes widened as she noticed Carmilla's terror, but she didn't move. Why didn't she move? She didn't seem to be afraid of her. Why wasn't she afraid? 

The girl walked forward slowly, murmuring soft, soothing words that all ran together in Carmilla's fevered mind, and she crouched down when she was a few feet away; close enough to touch, but respecting the vampire's space. She reached out, offering Carmilla her hand. 

"Don't--" Carmilla hissed as she tried to yank herself further away, but all it did was slam her head against the tree trunk, making her see stars. Carmilla swore under her breath, and seeking purchase against the tree, shakily climbed to her feet. 

"Hey, careful," the stranger warned, gently taking Carmilla by the elbow, steadying her. "You're bound to be a bit disoriented if you just fell out of Death." 

"Don't--don't touch me," Carmilla snapped as she wrenched her arm out of the girl’s grip, but her heart wasn't in it.

Contact meant pain, she remembered that, and she was no stranger to pain. Nothing was given unless its price was to be exacted from her twice over in return. 

But... there was something about this girl, something that calmed her somehow, that almost eased the panic still looming in her throat and choking her.

_This one is safe,_ something in her whispered. _Not everyone is Mother._  

But who was Mother? And why was she so afraid of her? 

"Okay," the stranger replied, backing away and raising her hands in surrender. 

"Do you remember anything? I just found you here, and you looked so small and--and hurt, and this is a place I come a lot, because it's where I fell out of Death once, and apparently it happens occasionally so..." 

Death? Had she just come out of Death? Carmilla scoured her memories as the girl babbled, trying to piece together what had happened but... Nothing. Her head felt like it was filled with sludge, her thoughts murky and slow to surface, and details like _how_ and _why_ and even as simple as _who am I_ eluded her completely, mired in the depths. 

"I don't remember," Carmilla whispered. 

"That's okay," the stranger said warmly. Then her brow furrowed again. "Are you--you look like maybe--are you hurt at all?" 

"I..." Carmilla frowned. She was used to pain, to shoving it down and dealing with it on her own later. She didn't remember getting hurt but... Something in her shoulder twinged, and she was snapped back to reality. She ripped away the cloak, ignoring as her body screamed at the sudden movement, the pain finally catching up to her to let her know that yes, she was injured and she should probably do something about that. 

The stranger gasped; under the cloak, the entire right side of Carmilla’s shirt was soaked with blood, seeping through a wound just above her breast. 

"That's--do you need help? Who am I kidding? Of course you need help, you look like you just wandered off the set of a second rate horror flick, and you've probably been stabbed--" 

"I'm fine," Carmilla snapped, pulling the cloak back on and hugging it tight to chest. She was fine. She knew pain, knew blood, knew she would heal on her own soon enough. Vaguely, a memory surfaced of a knife made of gleaming silver and it burned, burned through her even as it tore through muscle and-- 

Suddenly it was like someone had sunk a battle ax into the back of her skull, and Carmilla crumpled to the ground with a whimper. 

"Hey! That is definitely not what fine looks like!" the stranger exclaimed, rushing forward. "Let me help you, the enclave isn't far from here and they can help you there--"

"Don't touch me," Carmilla snarled, fangs bared. 

"Whoa," the stranger said. "Okay, so you are definitely a vampire."

 "Yes. And I told you before that I'm fine. So leave me alone," Carmilla snapped.

"Hi, 'fine,'" the stranger quipped as she shuffled closer, utterly unfazed by Carmilla's outburst. "If that's even your real name," she added as Carmilla just stared, not quite able to believe what the other girl was doing.

The girl grinned and held out her hand again. "I’m Laura Hollis. And you're not going to get rid of me that easy. Vampire or not, you need medical attention. Now, can you walk? Or am I going to have to carry you back to the enclave?"

"What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?" Carmilla said, and there was more wonder than malice in her voice. She was a vampire. Undead fiend from the pits of hell. Usually that warranted more screaming and running, not a ‘hi how can I help you?’

Laura rolled her eyes. "You're hurt! And no offense, you look like Death. Well, actually, you look like crap--I mean, not like crap, you look really, _really_ gorgeous, but like you’ve had a really crappy time and you're kind of covered in blood and I’m pretty sure you literally just came out of Death and-- I can't just leave you here if you're hurt and alone--”

"I'm a vampire. I'll heal just fine on my own." 

"Do you even know where you are? You said you didn't remember what happened to you."

Carmilla grit her teeth. Just when had humans become so stubborn and annoying?

"I don't. Doesn't mean I won't be fine. This isn't my first rodeo, creampuff." The nickname fell out of her mouth without thinking. It seemed to fit, at least--something fluffy and too sickeningly sweet for its own good.

"Laura. It's Laura. I literally just told you that. Are you having trouble remembering things that happened after you fell out of Death now too?"

It was Carmilla's turn to roll her eyes. "No, cutie. I remember that just fine. Using names just isn't how I operate."  

_She needed to keep her distance. She was dangerous, a monster, Mother's red right hand._

_(Though she still couldn't remember who this 'Mother' was...)_  

_‘Her heart is buried, and now she loves nothing and no one.’_

_‘You are above such things, my glittering girl.’_  

_‘Stone cannot love flesh.’_  

_‘Love will have its sacrifices.’_  

Flashes of memories hit her all at once, bombarding her with a cacophony of voices she knew she should know, but it was like trying to fill a bucket with a sieve; they slipped through her fingers before she could glean anything useful from them. 

She _knew_ them. Knew they were bits and pieces of things she should remember, but _what?_  

"Whoa, easy there, Badass Broody McVampire," Laura said, wrapping an arm around Carmilla's waist as the vampire stumbled, white hot pain searing into her skull once more as everything faded to black. 

*** 

For the second time that day, Carmilla woke up in an unfamiliar place with no idea how she got there. She blinked slowly, taking in the fluorescent lights and IV in her arm. At some point she'd been cleaned up (or at least, scrubbed of the worst of the blood) and changed into a hospital gown. Reaching with her uninjured arm, she felt a fresh gauze bandage over her injury, and with a glance saw that the IV was in fact a blood transfusion. 

Well then. Looks like the cupcake had in fact gotten her way with regards to Carmilla getting help. She sat up in the bed, ears quirking up as she heard arguing on the other side of the door, two or more people whisper shouting at each other so as to not be overheard by human ears. 

Which did nothing to prevent Carmilla from eavesdropping. 

"She's an honest to God bloodsucking vampire, Laura! Who you literally just met today! This goes way beyond just 'stranger danger,’ you could have gotten hurt or worse, and that's not even getting into the fact that you brought her here, where she could put other people in danger, not just you! Did you even think about that?" one said. 

"She was confused and bleeding out on the ground all alone, Danny! I'm not just going to leave someone in trouble just because I didn't get your permission first!" the other snapped, and Carmilla recognized Laura's voice. "I'm perfectly capable of making decisions on my own." 

"This isn't about that! This is about you being reckless and putting yourself at risk--" 

"I can handle myself. And I can handle it, Danny. I'll keep an eye on her. I'm not going to let anything happen, I promise." 

"She's a vampire, Laura! You don't just _handle_ a vampire--" 

"Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Besides, it's not like we haven't dealt with vampires before, and JP even _lives_ here--" 

"JP is different and you know it,” huffed the one Laura had called Danny. 

"She's got a point there, Frosh," another speaker chimed in. 

Carmilla heard Laura let out a long sigh. "Fine. You know what? I'm gonna vouch for her." 

"Laura--" Danny interjected. 

"Don't," Laura snapped. "I know what it means." 

"You're seriously going to literally put your life on the line for someone you don't even know? Just think about this, Laura!" 

"It's not like you can do anything until she wakes up anyways, L," the other one said. "You need a name to claim her as your guest, anyways. Thinking about it a bit more won't do any harm." 

"If the problem is that Laura's guest is not yet awake, you needn't worry," a distinctly masculine voice said in a crisp English accent. "I do believe she's come to and is listening in as we speak." 

Carmilla frowned. Four speakers. Three heartbeats. That meant... Ah. The aforementioned resident vampire was present. And had just called her out. 

"Really?" Laura exclaimed. "Can I go see her?" 

"I don't see why not," the other vampire said. 

Danny sighed. "I have to go. And don’t think you’re going to get out of talking about this later. I can't stop you but just... be careful, okay? I care about you, Laura," she said softly. 

"I can take care of myself. Nothing's going to happen, Danny. Besides, JP's here!" Laura replied.

The door swung open, and a very tall and dapper gentleman walked in, followed by Laura and a ginger in a lab coat. 

"I see my assumption was correct. A pleasure to meet you... Guest of Laura's," the vampire said, offering his hand to shake. "I'm J.P. Armitage, but you may call me JP. This is my associate," he gestured to the ginger, "Dr LaFontaine, and of course you've already been acquainted with Laura. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," Carmilla grunted in response, pointedly ignoring JP's hand. The vampire looked familiar somehow, but she couldn't quite place how. She was certain she'd never met this JP before, and yet...

"That's to be expected. You kinda lost a lot of blood there, Elvira. I'm more of the PhD than MD type, but at least vampire care is pretty straightforward," LaFontaine said. They checked the transfusion, then scribbled something on their clipboard. "I'm guessing even without the whole stabbing thing you'd feel like you’d been put through the wringer, though. The Underworld isn't a fun trip for anybody."

Carmilla simply grunted again. She didn't remember the whole Underworld experience, or really anything that happened before she woke up under the oak tree, but she had the distinct feeling that even if she did, she really wouldn't want to talk about it.

"Should be fine, just don't go too crazy and try to stay put at least until the transfusion's finished. Now that that's all said and done, I've got a few experiments to go check on. Later, frosh, JP." LaFontaine made a few more notes on their clipboard, then took their leave. 

"I should probably assist with that. What with all the drama as of late, I'd hate to give Miss Perry something else to worry about." JP cleared his throat uncomfortably, then followed after LaFontaine. 

"So..." Laura said slowly, taking a seat by Carmilla's bed. 

"So what?" Carmilla replied, arching an eyebrow. 

“You’re probably wondering where you are, yeah?” Laura twiddled her thumbs, unable to sit still. 

“The thought had crossed my mind, cupcake.” 

“This is the Silas Enclave, home and haven for all things weird and occult. Nowhere safer this side of the Lethe.” 

“Aren’t you a little close to the Underworld to be making that sort of pronouncement, cutie?” Considering Carmilla herself had just fallen out of Death somewhere nearby, the barrier between Earth and the Underworld had to be pretty thin, and having a settlement of any kind near an Underworld entrance (or worse, _exit…_ ) was just asking for trouble. 

Laura shrugged. “The Enclave has a sort of… working relationship with Death. Some kind of arrangement? You’d have to ask the library.” 

“‘ _Ask_ the library?’” 

Laura grinned. “Yep! It kind of has a mind of its own. Literally.” 

“Interesting…” Carmilla chewed her lip, thinking that over. Silas sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place why. And ‘nowhere safer this side of the Lethe’ was probably little more than propaganda, but maybe she would would be safe here, from this ‘Mother’ or whoever had sent her into Death in the first place, at least until she regained her memories.   

Laura squirmed in her seat, eager to speak but seeming unsure of what just to say. 

“I need to know your name,” she blurted out suddenly. 

_Not the type to wrestle with uncertainty for long then, that one._  

Carmilla gave Laura her most dazzling smile. “Is that so, cutie?” 

Laura flushed, and started babbling out her explanation. “It’s just um, the others, well Danny mostly, they’re a little worried about me bringing you here, and just to make sure there’s no trouble or anything, I need you to promise not to hurt anyone while you’re here so I can vouch for you, okay?” 

“Cupcake, you do realize I’m a vampire, right?” 

“Well, yeah, I got that when you hissed at me earlier. What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“A bit of murder kind of goes with the territory.” 

“Nope! No murder allowed!” Laura squeaked. 

“Well that just takes all the fun out of things…” Carmilla drawled, smirking as she leaned back in her bed, enjoying the human’s discomfort entirely too much. 

“I’m sure you can find other ways to keep yourself entertained,” Laura snapped.

“Oh ho ho, are you _offering,_ cutie?” Carmilla’s smirk widened as Laura’s pulse skyrocketed and the human blushed a deep scarlet. 

“No! Yes! Maybe? Not like that!” Laura said quickly, then leveled her most fearsome glare at Carmilla. 

Which, considering Laura was all of 5’2 and had the eyes and disposition of your average puppy, was not very fearsome at all. 

“It’s Carmilla, sweetheart.” She decided to take pity on the human. (Just this once. And just because her angry expression was simply too cute to turn down.) 

“Carmilla…?” 

“It’s my name.” Well, one of them, at least. Dozens were swimming around in her head--Arcillma, Mircalla, Millarca… But ‘Carmilla’ felt right in that moment, so it was the one she gave. 

“Oh! Thank you. Er, it’s a lovely name…” Laura said awkwardly. 

Carmilla shrugged. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you or any of your little friends, buttercup. It’s the least I could do, considering you carried me here and got me this blood and all.” 

Laura squealed in excitement, leaned over, and threw her arms around Carmilla, squeezing her tight in a hug. “Awesome! I uh, really appreciate it, Carmilla.” 

Carmilla winced, and not ungently pushed Laura off of her, changing the subject. “What’s this ‘vouching’ for me thing you were talking about earlier, cupcake?” 

“Er… It’s a sort of ritual thing, because I’m a guardian of the Enclave and all, it’s me officially welcoming you as a guest here and putting you under my and the Enclave’s protection so you don’t get hurt here. And also um…” Laura started fidgeting in her seat again. 

“‘And…?’” There had to be a catch. There was _always_ a catch. 

“If you do any harm to the Enclave it’s on me. Which usually means death. Death-death. Not _Death-_ death. Which won’t be an issue! Because you’re going to be on your best behavior until you’re recovered, right?” 

Laura’s eyebrows knitted with worry, and she glanced back at Carmilla. “Right?” she asked nervously. 

_What?_  

“I’m… not sure that’s a good idea, creampuff,” Carmilla said dubiously. 

_Monster, monster,_ **_monster_ ** **\--**  

_You will bring ruin to all you encounter, death in your touch, blood on your hands, poison in your mouth--_  

“Carm?” Laura reached out and stopped just short of Carmilla’s hand. She looked up at Carmilla again, meeting her gaze and giving her a shy smile, asking for permission. 

Without thinking, Carmilla gave her a slight nod, and Laura gently intertwined their fingers together. 

“It’s gonna be okay, okay? I promise you’re going to be safe here. It’s really important to me that you feel safe here. Everyone deserves that. _You_ deserve that.” 

“Okay.” Carmilla whispered, so soft Laura surely couldn’t hear her, so she nodded, too. 

The human grinned, and squeezed Carmilla’s hand again. “Thanks.” 

Carmilla let out a startled, breathy laugh at that. “Pretty sure you’re the one doing _me_ a favor here, sweetheart.” 

“Still! Like I said, it’s important to me.” Laura ducked her head slightly as her blush returned. 

“Anything I need to do for this oh-so-important ritual of yours, cupcake?” 

“No, um, I just need your name. Your um, full name, I mean. Your true one. Like first and last,” Laura prompted. 

Carmilla frowned, thinking for a moment, sorting through the sea of names swirling through her head. ‘Carmilla’ still felt right to her, but it wasn’t… 

_Mircalla von Karnstein._ That was the one that stuck out, ringing true as it rose to the top of the swirling mess of her head. 

“In life…” Carmilla said slowly. “I was Mircalla. I was called Mircalla von Karnstein.” 

“But you prefer ‘Carmilla,’ now?” 

Carmilla shrugged again. “It feels right for now.” 

Laura shot her another smile. “Alright, I’ll stick with calling you Carmilla, then. Let me know if that ever changes, okay?” 

“Okay.” That was oddly… thoughtful of the cupcake. 

Laura cleared her throat. “So um, the ritual won’t take long. It’s just a few words. I’ll just um, do that now.” 

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, brow furrowed in concentration. (And damn it all if she wasn’t still entirely too adorable, Carmilla thought.) 

Laura gave Carmilla’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and then she began to speak, slow and sure. 

“Mircalla von Karnstein, I, Laura Hollis, by right of my position of Guardian in the House of Silas, do hereby vouch for your character and declare you my guest. You will be welcome in the Enclave as long as we both shall live, and under its protection so long as you remain within its boundaries.” 

Laura opened her eyes again and beamed at Carmilla. “Welcome!” she said, and the vampire couldn’t help but smile in return. 

Gods below, what had she just let this human rope her into...

 


	2. Chapter 2

Laura came back with a first aid kit as soon as the transfusion was finished. She gently removed the needle and placed a dinosaur bandage over it, much to Carmilla's chagrin. 

"Really, cupcake?" the vampire groaned. 

"What? Dinosaurs are awesome." 

"And that was what was in the kit, huh?" Carmilla countered.

"I might have maybe given you one from my special stash," Laura said sheepishly. 

Carmilla smirked. "Oh, so I'm getting special treatment, then?" she purred. 

"Well, um, you did just fall out of Death and all, and I thought you could use the boost--" Laura stammered.

Carmilla chuckled, and decided to cut her off before the human forgot how to breathe. "Uh-huh. Sure you're not just trying to ruin my badass image here, creampuff?" she said.

Laura scoffed. "Please, you're literally an undead fiend and you showed up here fresh from the Underworld, all decked out in leather and covered in blood." 

"So that's a yes." 

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," Laura said slyly. "Anyways! Perry cleaned your clothes and stitched up your shirt while you were out, so I'll just um leave you to it." She patted the pile of clothes she'd set on the bed next to the first aid kit and darted to the door. 

She paused. "I can show you around the Enclave when you're dressed if you'd like?" 

"I think I would like that very much," Carmilla said softly.

"Awesomegreatbye!" Laura shouted as she slammed the door behind her.

The vampire chuckled and shook her head, reaching for her clothes. She slipped on her leather pants first, then shrugged out of the hospital gown. As she was pulling a tank top over her head, a flash of red caught her eye from the corner of her vision.

She whipped around, and as her gaze fell on a mirror across the room, she let her stance relax a little. It was only her reflection, nothing more than a bit of gore that had seeped through the bandage on her shoulder.

(Contrary to popular belief, vampires _did_ in fact show up in mirrors and on film; it’d been decades since they were commonly made with the silver that had started the rumor.)

Carmilla shrugged and tore off the gauze, then attempted once more to yank her top on over her head. As she went to slip on her shirt again, her fingers caught on a raised pattern on her skin, and it _burned,_ worse than silver or holy water, and she recoiled with a hiss.

“What the frilly hell--” she muttered under her breath, and darted back to look at the mirror. Over her heart was a scar the size of her palm in the shape of a blazing sun that glowed red like a hot poker. The sight triggered another migraine, and she sank to her knees, hands clawing through her hair as she tried to dislodge the phantom axe buried in the back of her skull.

“Goddammit!” she snarled, curling up in a ball and closing her eyes. It was all she could do to keep from blacking out again; the scar _meant_ something, held some sort of significance to her that she still couldn’t place, and it definitely didn’t bode well.

“Carmilla?” Laura stopped at the door, then rushed to Carmilla's side when she saw the vampire's state.

"Hey, hey, it's me, it’s Laura. Are you okay?" she said softly, crouching down beside her.

"Does it look like it?" Carmilla snapped. She ground her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, trying to will the pain away.

"Should I go get LaFontaine--"

"No." Carmilla's eyes flew open and she shook her head vehemently. The last thing she needed was for more humans to be in her space, prodding her and asking questions.

"Okay," Laura murmured. "Okay." She sat down on the floor, and offered the vampire her hand, which Carmilla warily took.

Laura gave it a reassuring squeeze, and Carmilla hesitated for a moment--was she supposed to squeeze back? While her bone-crushing superhuman strength usually wasn't an issue, in her current state she worried she might not be able to hold back enough to keep from hurting the tiny human. Ultimately, she decided against it, and pulled away.

"It's okay, Carm," Laura whispered, and her hands went towards Carmilla's hair instead. Again she stopped just inches away, silently asking for permission.

Carmilla blinked slowly, unsure what Laura was asking that permission for, but gave a small nod anyway. If Laura wanted to hurt her, the human had already passed up multiple opportunities to do so. Odds were, she was safe with this one.

That thought felt foreign to her; why was it so strange for her to feel _safe_ with someone?

Laura gently tugged Carmilla’s head into her lap, soothingly carding her fingers through the vampire’s hair. She hummed under her breath, something soft and tuneless, and they sat there for what felt like hours until the headache went away.

Slowly, Carmilla sat up and raised a hand to the scar on her chest, fingers hovering just over it as she debated whether she was going to tempt fate or not. Plucking up some deeply buried courage, she gingerly traced the lines of the pattern over her heart, and couldn’t hide her sigh of relief when it didn't burn her this time.

She grabbed her shirt again and pulled it on, then glanced back up at Laura to see the human staring at her in open-mouthed shock.

Carmilla arched an eyebrow, feeling more like herself again. "What, cutie? I know I'm jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but this is a bit much."

Laura shook her head. "No, um, I mean--you need to see this." 

Carmilla's eyebrows climbed even further as Laura started undoing the buttons on her shirt.

"Whoa there, cupcake, I didn’t think you were that kind of girl," she joked, but Laura just shook her head again.

When she got to the last of the buttons, Laura shucked off the shirt altogether, and just above her tank top was a matching sunburst shaped scar, right over her heart, just as Carmilla's was.  

Ice water flooded her veins. "No no no no no,” she stammered. “That's--Laura, no, _gods below, no._ "

Laura winced. "That bad, huh?"

"Laura, do you even know what that means?" Carmilla murmured. She ducked her head, unable to look the human in the eye. She still didn’t know the details, but the dread creeping up her spine gave her an idea.

Suddenly it hit her, and the revelation all but knocked her over, something heavy and dark dropping in her stomach like a stone and dragging her down with it.

_Mother. That was how Mother marked her targets._

_She remembered coughing up blood, lying in a cold, dark place as her life poured out of her from a slash at her throat, and then the one she came to know as Mother appeared._

_She was tall, imposing, with sharp dark eyes and even sharper features, and at first she was frightened of this woman who was surely nothing more than a specter, here to ferry her away to Death._

_But then the woman spoke, kneeling down and taking her hand in both of hers, crooning sweetly of how it was such a shame, a tragedy._

_“My darling girl, you’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?” the specter had said._

_And then she offered her a choice._

_She could die here, afraid in the dark, having never left the confines of her father’s kingdom. A travesty indeed, such a fragile and beautiful thing, a light snuffed out too soon._

_Or she could live._

_“Do as I say and come when I call, questioning nothing, and all you have been denied will be laid at your feet, little countess. Give me your heart and I will give you the world.”_

_A choice between life and oblivion was hardly a choice at all, and she was but a foolish girl of eighteen._

_She chose the world, of course, and the woman had laid a hand over her heart, and oh how it burned, burned as if it were an iron left in the fire, as if it would sink right through her and take her heart with it._

_And perhaps it did that night, for the scene came just in flashes now; she remembered screaming, and then darkness, and sweet, sweet silence, and then--_

_She had died. She remembered that. By the knife that had slit her throat, not by the hand of the witch to whom she had promised her heart. This she knew, because the witch had then introduced herself as her Mother._

_Not her mother in life, but the mother of her life after death, and Mother was so incredibly pleased with her, that she had survived the fire. So pleased that she had taken pity on her, had cheated Death and stolen her out of its grasp, but only just._

_She was alive, but not; belonging to Death and Life both, she would thirst forevermore, robbing one to keep the other at bay for as long as she lived._

"It’s got something to do with Death, right?” Laura asked, startling Carmilla out of the memory.

“It was just  _there_ when I fell out of the Underworld the first time. But lots of people here have been to Death, and no one else has it. And it can't be a vampire thing, because JP doesn't have it either."

"It's not like that. I don't--I'm sorry. I don't remember. I just know that wherever I've come from... If you have the same mark I have, it can’t be good, Laura. It just can’t,” Carmilla lied, an all too familiar panic coiled in her chest and leaping into her throat.

"And you don't know what it means?" Laura asked

Carmilla shook her head. "If I ever did, I don't now. It's all just... gone, Laura. I'm sorry."

"Well, maybe we can figure that out together, yeah?" Laura said hopefully, and Carmilla felt the urge to _run, to_ get out of there before she brought ruin on this one, too. But something in the human’s voice rooted her to the spot.

Hope was a dangerous thing. She remembered enough to know that.

But still, she couldn’t bring herself to move.

"Maybe," Carmilla whispered. She knew if she made a promise that she wouldn’t be able to keep it.

“You said it showed up when you first fell out of Death?” she asked weakly, trying to shift the subject away from herself.

“Yeah,” Laura said, and her gaze fell to the floor. She started twiddling her thumbs again. “I was ten, and my mom had just died. It was a really bad car accident, a drunk driver just came out of nowhere and slammed into her side of the car. She died on impact.”

“I’m sorry.”

Laura glanced up at her and nodded, acknowledging Carmilla’s words, then bowed her head again as she continued. “It was just me and her then, because Dad was away on a business trip, and I was so scared of being alone that I… I guess I somehow tagged along with her? And I must’ve fell in the Lethe or something, because the next thing I know, I’m waking up under that same tree where I found you…”

Laura paused, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “And there was this woman there, like she was waiting for me. And she said something about my mom? Or about how she was my mom? But it wasn’t my mom, it was just…” she shook her head.

“‘Mother,’” Carmilla said quietly. “She always called herself ‘Mother.’” 

Laura’s head snapped back up. “You know her? 

Carmilla could barely speak past the lump in her throat. “I did.” She looked away, determined not to meet Laura’s gaze. 

“So you’ve met her, too?” Laura said excitedly. 

“I don’t know, cupcake, I still can’t remember everything--” Carmilla protested. 

“But it’s a start! Maybe that’s it! Maybe she’s a link--” 

“Laura, don’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t go digging into my mother.” 

“‘ _Your’_ mother?” Laura asked carefully. 

_Shit. Think, you useless lesbian vampire. Think!_  

Carmilla shook her head again, and decided to subtly deflect instead of outright lie this time. “It’s what she called herself. Mother to those who would bridge the gap between Life and Death.” 

“‘Who would bridge the gap?’” 

“Like you and me. I’m undead, and you apparently entered the Underworld alive and came out untouched.” She winced as she glanced back up at the matching scar over Laura’s heart. “Almost untouched,” she added softly. 

“So, she like… collects people like us? But I know at least a dozen people just here at Silas who’ve been into Death, and I’m the only one that’s marked. No one else here has ever even seen it before. Nobody knows what it means.” 

“You don’t want to know what it means, Laura. I… I should go. I should never have come here in the first place.” 

“But--you can’t! Carmilla, you really do know what it means, don’t you!” Laura protested. 

“No, Laura, I don’t. I don’t know,” Carmilla snapped. “I don’t know anything, and it still terrifies me. I just know that she marked me, and now there’s you, and gods below, she has to know that I’m out of the Underworld now-- She’ll be looking for me. I can’t stay here, cupcake.” She pulled on her boots and grabbed her cloak, headed towards the door.

“Then you have to stay here!” Laura exclaimed. 

Carmilla stopped, turning back to face her as she shook her head again. “Laura, you don’t understand--” 

“Hey,” Laura cut her off by reaching up to smooth over Carmilla’s hair. “Look at me, Carm.” 

One look and the vampire was a goner. Damn the cupcake and her gooey brown eyes that had Carmilla rooted to the spot once more. 

“If she’s looking for you, then there’s no safer place for you to be than here. ‘Nowhere safer this side of the Lethe,’ remember?” Laura said gently. “I promised you protection when I made you my guest, and I meant it, Carmilla. One little undead mommy issue isn’t going to scare me off. And no one and nothing can enter the Enclave unless they’re invited. You’re safe here. I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, cupcake,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Maybe I can’t keep it. But that isn’t going to stop me from trying. This is what the Enclave’s _for_ , Carm. This is what we do.” 

Carmilla sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay. But only because I don’t have anything resembling a better plan, and I still can’t remember shit.” 

Laura grinned and threw her arms around Carmilla. “Yes! I promise you won’t regret it, Carm!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure... So, protecting lost little vampires is what you do, huh?” Carmilla asked, smirking as she shrugged the tiny human off of her. 

“Only if they ask nicely,” Laura said, her eyes twinkling. 

Carmilla huffed out a laugh. “Pretty sure that’s the opposite of what I did, cutie.” 

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be the exception then.” 

“Oh, so you think I’m _exceptional,_ do you?” Carmilla teased. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Laura said mischievously as she headed to the door, glancing back over her shoulder when Carmilla didn’t follow. “You said you wanted me to show you around, right?” 

“You’re something else, cupcake,” Carmilla murmured, shaking her head even as she followed after Laura anyway. 

Laura just beamed and offered the vampire her hand. “Come on, then! There’s so much I want to show you here.” 

And Carmilla couldn’t help but smile too when she took her hand and let Laura tug her along down the hall to whatever awaited them.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I put a Majora's Mask reference in there? Yes. Yes I did.


	3. Chapter 3

Carmilla paid little attention to most of Laura’s grand tour, content to just watch her as she babbled animatedly, tugging her along by the hand from place to place.

(She did make a mental note of the location of the special ‘blood fridge.’ Though such notes would be of little use because apparently the rooms and hallways had an obnoxious habit of moving without warning, and what was in one place in the morning might be on the complete opposite side of the compound by late afternoon.) 

She mulled over the flashback she’d had earlier, uneasy with the thought that Laura had met with and been marked by her Mother, too. 

Had Laura, too, been on the brink of death? Had Mother made her a similar offer? Carmilla had been young herself when Mother had approached her, but Laura had been a _child._ That Laura had survived an incursion to the Underworld was a feat unto itself, but to have managed it at ten years old... 

No wonder her Mother had sought Laura out. It took incredible strength of will to enter Death as a living mortal, and all the more to leave it. Those who managed it at all were often left nothing more than a gibbering shell of their former selves, as the Underworld took a toll on all who crossed its threshold. 

To leave the land of the Dead, something of equal value would have to be given in return, as leaving the Underworld was tantamount to robbing Death itself. Therefore, some precious part of one’s self would have to be left behind in payment. Death was nothing if not a balancing act, and the scales were always tipped in its favor. 

_(Time was nothing to It, as all things come to Death eventually. ‘Even gods must die,’ Mother had once said. Mortal cares were thus all the more inconsequential to Death. If a price was not paid then, it would be exacted soon enough. And always with interest.)_  

There were ways to bargain one’s way out of Death instead, of course. But it would hardly be called wise. Death did not give anything lightly, and it always came with a cost. 

It was a price few would willingly pay, if given a choice in the matter. (They usually weren’t.) 

“You okay, Carm?” Laura asked as she glanced back, her brow furrowed in concern. Carmilla realized they’d reached their last stop, a grand, enormous building of Victorian make some three stories high, complete with neo-grecian columns and wide stairs.   

And she had been standing there silently for a good two minutes while Laura had been waiting for her reaction. 

“Nothing you need to worry about, cupcake,” Carmilla said as she gave Laura a forced smile. 

“If you’re sure…” Laura didn’t sound convinced. “You were pretty deep in thought there. I’m not going to push you or anything, but I really would like to get to know you better.”

 “You and me both, creampuff,” Carmilla said dryly.

 (If she had to deal with this annoying amnesiac crap, she was at least going to have fun with it.) 

Laura laughed, and Carmilla thought she may have never heard such a beautiful sound. (She decided then and there to make sure she heard it and was the cause of it as often as possible.)

She gave Laura a more genuine smile this time, and gestured at the palatial building before them. “I take it this is your oh-so-special sentient library, then?” 

“The one and only! Ready to check it out?” 

“After you, cupcake," Carmilla said, and as if on cue the library doors swung open of their own accord. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Laura grinned back at the vampire as she led her inside. 

"That's one way to describe it..." Carmilla muttered under her breath, taking in the absolutely massive room before her, where shelves overflowing with books stretched upwards hundreds of feet into the air, disappearing into the... clouds above. The ceiling had to be enchanted somehow, though having clouds indoors, in a room full of books no less was about as asinine an idea as she could imagine. 

It was bigger on the inside. Because of course it had to not only be self-aware, but extra-dimensional, too. 

"How does a place like this come into being, anyways?" she asked, absentmindedly taking a book off the nearest shelf. "And how does an adorable little cupcake like you end up as a... what did you call it again? A, ah, Guardian of it." Carmilla glanced down at the book in her hand. _'Hall of Memories: Adventures in the Past Through the Mind's Eye.'_  

Cute. Apparently the library had a sense of humor, too. 

"The library kind of just popped up sometime in the 1870's," Laura replied. "Mind of its own and all that. What've you got there?" Laura stepped closer, taking a look at the book Carmilla had grabbed. 

"It can be kind of wonky sometimes. But hey, at least it seems like it's trying to be helpful today?" 

"Sure. 'Helpful,'" Carmilla murmured, and put the book back on the shelf. "So, what does this whole 'Guardian' business of yours entail?" she asked, turning back to Laura. 

"Oh, that? Erm, it's kind of like..." Laura chewed her lip, searching for the right words. "So, you know how there's a balance between Life and Death and all that? Sometimes... things throw off that balance. If a dragon gets loose and goes around burning and massacring villages, or some two-bit wizard villain gets it in his head that he wants to build an army of zombies or something. Anything that takes from Life or Death like that in a big way, we're supposed to deal with." 

Carmilla arched an eyebrow. "And where exactly do vampires fit into this equation?"   

Laura gave her a sheepish smile. "Technically, I guess you could say making someone a vampire throws off the balance. Taking someone already claimed by Death and bringing them back to Life has a cost, but it’s one that was paid when you came back. And as long as you're not like, killing someone every time you need blood, or going on a rampage or whatever, you're not really messing with it because the price has already been paid, I think? Laf would know more about it than me, since they kinda raised JP and all--" 

"Wait, raised?" Normal people didn't have the power to make vampires. Hells, Carmilla was pretty sure even vampires couldn't make other vampires, contrary to pop culture's assertions. It took a ton of magic and a lot of pull with the Underworld to be able to make that kind of deal. 

"Uh, sort of? LaFontaine and JP have always been really close and all, but JP kind of didn't have a body. He's actually about 150 years old, he got sucked into the stacks sometime not long after the library showed up, and was kind of an incorporeal, living library catalog for most of that time. But then a vampire showed up around Silas who was kidnapping kids and all from the nearby villages, and well, long story short, Perry, LaFontaine's partner--she runs most of the day-to-day of the Enclave and all that--she staked him," Laura explained. 

"Perry. The curly-haired ginger who was baking brownies when you showed me the 'blood fridge,'" Carmilla said dubiously. 

"That's the one! She's a little uptight, and a real sweetheart most of the time, but uh. Super scary when she's angry." 

"I'll do my best not to get on her bad side, then, what with her track record with vampires and all," Carmilla chuckled. 

"That's probably for the best. But anyways, Perry staked the vampire responsible for the kidnappings, and Laf kind of stole the vampire's dead body and Frankensteined JP into it. So I guess, technically not raised. But they learned a lot about vampires in the process of... that." 

JP had seemed familiar to her somehow... had Carmilla known the vampire whose body he'd stolen? 

"You wouldn't happen to know the name of the vampire who was staked, would you?" 

Laura's eyes widened. "You think you knew him?" 

"I might have." Carmilla shrugged. "Vampires generally don't play well with others, though, so it's not that big of a deal. I doubt there was any love lost between us." 

"If you did know him... Could he be connected to this Mother-person, too?" 

"Possibly. But you said JP didn't have the brand earlier, cupcake." 

"Well, no, but he got a stake through the heart so that might have covered it up a bit. And I don't exactly make a habit of going around examining vampire's chests too closely," Laura said. 

"Is that so, buttercup?" Carmilla drawled. "You seemed to make an exception for me." 

Laura's face flushed a rather alarming shade of red. "That's--okay, first of all that’s--I didn’t know you weren’t dressed and you sounded like you were hurt and--” 

"Breathe, creampuff," Carmilla reminded her, chuckling as she rolled her eyes. Humans shouldn't be allowed to be as cute as Laura Hollis. 

Laura squeaked and took a moment to catch her breath. “Anyways! Before we, um, got _way_ sidetracked, you mentioned that JP’s face--well, the face of the person that JP’s kind of um, borrowing it from--you said that he looked familiar. And earlier you said that your mom ‘collected’ people who had connections to Death, right? And this vampire was kidnapping children from villages in the area, which just so happen to be--” 

“Right by an entrance to the Underworld,” Carmilla said softly, finishing Laura’s thought for her. 

Laura bounced on her heels, already back to talking a mile a minute in her excitement. “Exactly! We never found the kids who got taken, so I don’t know if we can _prove_ it, but it’s a decent working theory, yeah? And after all, this Mother-person marked me when _I_ was a kid, so it’s not exactly a stretch to assume she might be behind the disappearances, right? And maybe they’re still alive and out there somewhere, so if we could just find them-- ” 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla sighed, agitatedly running a hand through her hair and pacing.“I can’t do this.” 

_Drowning, drowning, drowning--_  

_No sound, no light, no warmth. Only cold and dark and the bitter tang of iron in her mouth, filling her mouth and her ears and her lungs and silencing her screams and it’s too much, it’s too much and too quiet and she can’t move, encased too tightly and locked away in a coffin filled with blood, buried in a shroud under tons of earth._  

_It’s the silence that scarred her the most, even more than the total darkness in her confines where the sun has never touched, and light will never reach._  

_She is a creature of the night, a veteran of the hells, and she is no stranger to darkness._  

_But the silence…_  

_The silence is deafening, suffocating, drowning out her own sobs and gasps with those of another, those she heard as--_  

_There was another girl, once, with warm brown eyes and a smile as soft as it was bright._  

_One she had tried to save from Mother’s grasp._

_A disobedience she paid dearly for._  

_Mother had found Elle a sickly teenager, wracked with consumption and at Death’s door. And as she gasped what might have been her final breaths, Mother made her offer._  

_And Elle had agreed._  

_And Elle had survived._  

_And so she was marked, given the first of her Mother’s ‘gifts.’_

_And Elle forgot. Believed it to be nothing more than a dream, the explanation of a fevered mind for her miraculous recovery._  

_For Elle would never fall ill again._  

_The first brand was a gamble. A gift of nigh immortality, if they survived its giving, and if the gift had the time to take root. It would change them, over ten years time, change them so no illness or injury could carry them to Death, bound as they were to Mother’s will. Mother held their lives in her hands, and Death could come for them at her hands alone._  

_But just in case, Maman always had her watch them, the ones who survived the first gift._  

_She had played this part before. As the time drew near for the gift to transform them, she would be sent to befriend them, beguile them, and keep them safe until they could be led away for her mother’s purposes._  

_Only this time, the game went awry, set on its head when she had been beguiled in turn._  

_She had watched her year after year, watched as Elle grew into someone brilliant, and kind, and insatiably curious about the wide world._  

_And now she couldn’t bear to give her up._  

_Few survived Mother’s first mark._  

_Even fewer survived the second._  

_(None had survived the third.)_  

_And so she tried to save her._  

_She failed._  

_She failed and watched as Elle disavowed her entirely, and ran right into Maman’s clutches._  

_And watched, mute, unable to move a muscle, utterly helpless as Maman led away the only person she had ever loved and took the brand once more to Elle’s heart._  

_Heard the screams as she burned away to nothing, left nothing but a pile of ash where her love once stood._  

_The scene never once left her mind for nearly a hundred years, as she relived it over and over again from her place buried beneath the earth._  

“Carm? You okay?” 

Laura’s voice snapped her out of the trance, and Carmilla stopped suddenly, stumbling and just barely catching herself by grabbing on to the shelf, clinging to it for dear life. 

“We can’t do this. _I_ can’t do this, Laura,” she whispered, as the human rushed to her side. 

“Hey, hey. You don’t have to do anything, Carm, I promise,” Laura said soothingly, wrapping an arm around Carmilla’s waist to hold her up. “What’s going on?” 

Carmilla shook her head. “You still don’t understand.” 

“Then help me understand it, Carm. I just want to help,” Laura pleaded. 

“Fine,” Carmilla snapped, more harshly than she intended. She winced and softened her tone. “I remember what the marks mean. What they do.” 

“That’s great! That’s progress! That puts us one step closer to figuring all of this out!” Laura exclaimed, and Carmilla sagged against her as her heart leapt into her throat. 

_Ten years for the first mark._  

_Five for the test._  

_And for the third, the confirmation, whenever Mother deemed fit thereafter._  

_No one had survived the third, no one except--_  

_“Fuck!”_ Carmilla wrenched herself out of Laura’s grasp and fell to her knees, clawing at her shirt as the brand burned once more, searing white-hot against her skin. 

_She had survived. Her, and no one else._  

_And Maman was looking for her._  

_Maman needed two souls for the ritual, and had found none worthy in three hundred years._  

_No one except her._  

_Maman still needed her. She would never let her go._  

“God-fucking- _damn it,”_ Carmilla snarled. 

“Laura,” she gasped, biting down on her lip until it bled, trying to distance herself from the pain. 

“I’m here. What do you need?” Laura said quickly, crouching down and offering Carmilla her hand. 

The vampire shook her head. “Your scar. How long have you had it?” Carmilla hissed out between gritted teeth. 

“It’s been about fifteen years, I guess? Why? Carm, you’re hurt, can this wait? Just tell me what I can do to help.” 

“Fuck!” she snarled again, and forced herself to sit upright. She’d been through all the seven hells, goddammit, and she wasn’t about to be reduced to a sniveling mess by a simple _scar._

“Laura,” Carmilla said slowly. “Did Mother ever find you a second time? Have you seen her since you fell out of Death when you were a child?” 

She was sure she hadn’t met Laura before; after… Elle, she’d been replaced in the duty of bringing the marks to Mother. Maman had raised other help for that, including an annoying little weasel who hadn’t been branded, but that she kept around regardless. 

Laura shook her head. “No, never.” 

“Are you sure? Think carefully, Laura. Is there any way she could have gotten ahold of you, maybe something you don’t remember…?” Carmilla prompted. 

Something didn’t add up. Mother would have never let more than ten years pass without giving Laura the second brand, and it had already been five past that. She had to have met Laura again at some point. 

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.” 

“Are you sure?” Carmilla repeated. 

Laura nodded vigorously. “It was just the one time, I never saw her again after she brought me to the Enclave.” 

Carmilla whipped around to gape at Laura. “She _brought_ you here?” she snapped. “And you didn’t think that was relevant information? Fucking _hells,_ Laura, _the very person I’m hiding from brought you here, and you had the audacity to promise I’d be safe?”_  

Laura recoiled as if Carmilla had hit her. “I was about to tell you earlier, but you kind of cut me off with your whole ‘don’t go digging into my mom, cutie pie,’ and ‘you don’t understand, sweetheart’ shit, so I didn’t exactly get the opportunity!” she retorted. 

“That is nothing more than an excuse and if you are half as intelligent as you pretend to be, you know it,” Carmilla said icily as she climbed to her feet. “I have to go. God, I should have known better than to expect anywhere would be safe from her.” 

“Wait!” Laura scrambled after her and grabbed Carmilla’s arm, trying to slow her down. 

_“Don’t touch me,”_ Carmilla spat as she tried to yank her arm away, and to their collective shock, (and Carmilla’s horror,) Laura’s grip held. 

Carmilla’s voice caught in her throat, and she choked out a sob. “Oh gods…” She was unthinking and angry, that pull had been hard enough to bend steel, to snap bone. 

And Laura had held. Laura had  _matched_ it. 

_Fuck._  

Somehow, Laura had been marked. The first brand was for immortality, the second for invincibility. Laura had been marked. And it was only a matter of time before Maman came to give her the third one. 

“It’s still safer here than out there--she never set foot in here, Carm, I swear--I’d remember that. She still would have to be invited in to get to you. And no one here is going to do that. I promised you would be safe here and I meant it. I swear to you, I mean it,” Laura said quietly. 

“Cupcake, she’s already gotten to you twice. Nowhere’s safe from her,” Carmilla murmured. 

_Someone_ had to have brought her to Maman at some point, and it was entirely possible that that someone had done something to Laura’s memories of the incident. 

But who? And how? 

Suddenly it clicked into place. 

_Will._ The weaselly, sniveling, annoying little mama’s boy who’d replaced her had been named _Will._ That’s how she knew JP’s face. The same vampire that had been kidnapping children around Silas had been her ‘brother.’ 

“What do you mean? I just told you that I’ve only met her once,” Laura protested. 

“Only once that you _remember._ Memory is a fluid, fragile thing, cupcake. You know that. Death messes with everyone’s heads like that,” Carmilla said quickly, thoughts racing. _Finally_ something was making sense, falling into place. 

“How long has Frankenstein’s librarian been a vampire? And did you go into Death anytime around when the children were going missing?” 

“About five years, give or take.” Laura said, then frowned, her brow furrowed in concentration as she strained to remember. “And I think I did…? It’s… fuzzy. Wait.” She paused, letting go of Carmilla’s arm so she could massage her temples, trying to force her brain to remember. 

“I did!” she exclaimed. “Just after the disappearances started, I took a trip to the Underworld to check that the kids hadn’t just stumbled through a portal or something. The details aren’t really working with me, but I don’t think I found anything out of the ordinary at the time? Why...? Wait.”   

Laura froze as the realization sank in. “Oh, god. The vampire. The missing kids. They really _were_ connected to your mother, weren’t they.” 

Carmilla nodded, eyes glued to the floor to avoid meeting Laura’s gaze. “His name was Will. He was just another one of Mother’s lackeys. He must have grabbed you sometime after you came out of Death, when you were still disoriented.” 

“Carm, be straight with me. What happens the second time someone meets your mother?” 

“Never been much for being straight, cupcake,” Carmilla deflected with a half-hearted smirk. 

Laura was less than amused. “Ha-ha. Me neither. Now answer the question, Carm. What in hell or Hogwarts is your mom doing? Because this isn’t just you anymore. This affects me, too. And I could really use some answers here.” 

“Okay.” Carmilla nodded, running a hand through her hair and leaning back against one of the library tables. “Okay,” she repeated. “Buckle up, creampuff. We’re in for a long night, or...” she paused, frowning. She didn’t really know what time or day it was. 

“Wednesday afternoon,” Laura supplied. 

“Right. That.” Carmilla tried to gather her thoughts, searching for the right words to say. 

“Cupcake, when’s the last time you got sick?” she asked. 

Laura arched an eyebrow. “Is that really relevant, or are you just stalling?” 

“Not really one to ramble on without a point, buttercup,” Carmilla replied. 

Laura riposted with a truly spectacular eye roll at that. “Touche. Fine. To answer your question, I can hardly remember it. The last time I really came down with something was when I was a kid.” 

“Before my mom died,” she added softly. 

“Last time you broke a bone?” 

“Same deal, I snapped my wrist falling out of a tree when I was seven. Nothing since then. Why?” 

“Well, cupcake, I know modern medicine is a goddamn miracle and all, but doesn’t it strike you as odd that you’ve been in perfect health for nearly twenty years? Especially considering your quite literal dealings with Death?” Carmilla prompted. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s a little odd, but I’m not exactly gonna complain about it. Figure it must just be good genes, right?” Laura said, a puzzled expression on her face. 

“That’s what the first brand does, Laura.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“It gives them a sort of… imitation of immortality, cupcake. Those who survive getting it, at least.” 

“By immortality, do you mean--”

“I could stab you right now and you’d be fine. It would hurt like a bitch, but you would be fine,” Carmilla replied with a shrug. “Poison, arrows, gunshots, plagues, the Spanish Armada; come hell or high water, you’d be fine.” 

“Holy Hufflepuff,” Laura murmured. “Okay, you can _not_ tell Laf about this, or I’ll never hear the end of all the tests they want to run on me involving ‘minimally invasive probing.’” 

Carmilla chuckled. “Cross my heart and hope to die, buttercup.” 

“That’s not exactly comforting.” Laura snorted. “You know, considering you’re _dead_ and--I’m not sure how vampire anatomy works--do you even have a heart?” 

“You wound me, cupcake,” Carmilla said with mock dismay. “Of course I have a heart. I just don’t have a pulse.” 

“Still not exactly convinced here, Carm,” Laura said dubiously. 

Carmilla rolled her eyes and sighed melodramatically. “ _Fine._ I promise I won’t tell the gingersnap about your, ah, _condition.”_  

“So, you said the first one is some kind of pseudo-immortality. That implies there’s a second. Earlier, were you implying that I…?” Laura trailed off. 

“The second gift is an imitation of invincibility. It makes the ones who survive a whole lot stronger and faster than your average human.”  

 “You keep saying ‘those who survive,’ Carm. It’s not exactly heartening.” 

Carmilla shrugged. “Why not? You’re still here, cupcake. I’d say that’s quite heartening.” 

“Still here. Still in the cross-hairs of a centuries old sociopath who has apparently almost killed me twice. Not exactly heartening.” 

“Touche.” 

“So, the second time… If they survive, they basically become Supergirl.” 

“Basically.” 

“...There’s a third gift, isn’t there.” 

“Yep.” 

“And I’m royally screwed, aren’t I.” 

“Probably,” Carmilla whispered. 

Laura shook her head, then started bouncing on her heels as she paced back and forth. “We’ll figure something out though! We can come up with some kind of plan! I mean, you’re a really old, super badass vampire, right? And you’ve got the magic-scar-booster-powers too, right? That has to count for something! Right?” 

“Had them last time too, cupcake,” Carmilla said wistfully. “I’m 0-1 in rebelling against Mommy Dearest. I would... prefer to avoid a repeat incident.” 

The memories of her decades buried alive and drowning in a coffin full of blood were still fresh in her mind, the image of Elle turning to ashes still burning behind her eyelids. 

“What happened?” Laura asked softly. 

“Another day perhaps, creampuff,” Carmilla murmured, and Laura didn’t push her further. 

The human shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the silence that stretched between them. “...How bad is it though? The third gift, I mean,” she blurted out. 

Carmilla leaned back against the table, gripping the edges tightly as she stared off into space. “If you are so unfortunate as to receive it,” she said and her fists clenched, her fingers digging into the wood, leaving her hands broken and bloody and probably riddled with splinters. 

She didn’t care. 

“It is the most intense and exquisitely painful thing you will ever experience. You cannot fathom, cannot even begin to imagine the extent of the agony it will put you through. Consider the sensation, if every bone were shattered and ground to dust, every inch of flesh that you possess consumed by flame and pierced by ten thousand knives. Consider that, and you still would not have even an inkling of the suffering Maman’s third and final gift imparts. You would beg for Death to take you, and be grateful to rot within the pits of hell for all eternity if it meant being free of it.” 

She shook her head to rid herself of the faraway look in her eyes, and turned to smile sadly at Laura. “It was, in the end, too much for anyone else to bear. I can hardly begrudge them that.” 

Laura’s breath hitched in a sob, and Carmilla could hear as the human’s pulse beat faster, could smell as the adrenaline flooded Laura’s veins, and she _snarled,_ utterly furious and full of righteous fervor on her behalf. 

She who was hardly more than a stranger to her. 

“She...” Laura took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. It did nothing for her tensed shoulders and clenched fists, however. “She did that to you.” 

“She did. I am the only one who has ever survived it. In no small part, I’m sure, due to the fact that she has simply refused to let me die,” Carmilla replied casually, as if she were merely talking about the weather and not her own torturous near death experience. “It was a long time ago, cupcake. And it’s hardly the worst thing she’s put me through.” 

Laura shook her head vehemently. “No. You didn’t deserve that. Any of it. No one does, no matter what they’ve done but--that? No. You didn’t deserve that, Carmilla. You deserved so much better than that. You _deserve_ so much better than that.” 

“You’d be the first to think so, creampuff,” Carmilla said, another sad smile on her face. “But who am I to argue when you obviously feel so strongly about it?” 

“I do! Anyone with a shred of basic decency would! And I’m--” Laura surged forward and threw her arms around Carmilla in a crushing hug. 

“I’m not going to let her hurt you again. We’re going to figure something out. And we’re going to fucking stop her, okay?” she whispered into Carmilla’s hair. 

It took a moment for Carmilla to register what was happening. 

Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around Laura, gently hugging her back. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she said. “Whatever you say.”  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quick, fluffy update for you since these past couple of weeks have been so crazy, and well, after the last chapter, I kind of owe you all some fluff ;D
> 
> Enjoy!

"So, we don't exactly have an unlimited number of rooms here--which, considering we have an extradimensional library here and all, you'd think wouldn't be an issue--so in the meantime, you'll be in my room, since you're my guest and all. If that's okay?" Laura asked as she lead Carmilla back through the twisting halls of the Enclave.   

"Far be it from me to turn down a beautiful girl inviting me back to her room, cutie," Carmilla replied with a shrug, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye all the same. 

Laura flushed and started sputtering, as Carmilla was fast discovering the tiny human was wont to do. (Honestly, the cupcake made it entirely too easy for her to rile her up. And who was to say she hadn't earned a little harmless fun? She had just hauled herself away from the horrors of the Underworld and her 'Mother,' after all.) 

"That's not--I mean, first of all, you're my guest here and that would be incredibly inappropriate. I wasn't issuing like, some sort of _invitation_ -invitation, it's just a place. For you to sleep. Where I also will happen to be sleeping. In two separate beds!" Laura exclaimed, then stopped to take a breath, the pause clearing her head a bit. 

She sighed and smacked herself in the face, rubbing her temples. "Which you obviously knew already.” 

Carmilla just smirked wickedly back at her, trying not to laugh. 

Laura shot a glare at her. "Very mature of you, Carmilla. How old did you say you were again?" 

"I never said. And isn't it supposed to be rude to ask a lady her age?" she demurred. 

"I suppose it's not any of my business..." 

"I'm getting the feeling that's hardly stopped you before." 

"Well, yes," Laura admitted. "But I've got some tact still in there somewhere. And I've kind of asked a lot of you today already. The least I can do is drop it. For now." 

"For now, hmm?" 

Laura grinned. "I told you before, you're not getting rid of me that easily, Carm." 

Carmilla huffed out a breathy laugh. "Clearly," she replied, a soft smile on her face as she shook her head. 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, and Carmilla decided to actually pay attention to the finer details of her new home this time as they made their way through it. 

After their very long (and honestly somewhat mortifying) chat in the library, the vampire had a lot less on her mind, and with more time out of the Underworld, her thoughts and senses were much clearer than they'd been during Laura's tour that she'd only half-listened to. 

The Enclave certainly felt old, had the familiar weight of centuries to it that something that had only 'popped up' less than 150 years ago shouldn't have, but due to its nature as a sentient, capricious magical being, it likely had existed in some form long, long before it had settled in its place here. 

It had a sort of timeless look to it all the same, the architecture all made of a pale burnished sandstone, the rooms (which apparently moved around at a whim) all on the exterior side, the interior halls of the Enclave all opening up to one enormous courtyard. With the exception of the intricately carved columns on the courtyard side of the halls, the enclave itself seemed incredibly plain. Without artwork or iconography to define it, the Enclave was a place that would hardly have looked out of place anywhere in history, whether it be in Ancient Greece, the Victorian era in Eastern Europe, or your average college campus. 

The courtyard, too, was rather plain. In the center there was a wide dirt clearing, with a few assorted weapon racks and straw training dummies scattered around it. The rest of the courtyard was devoted to a few shrubbery arrangements and covered with a very short, almost moss-like turf. Everything about the Enclave was simple, plain really, but in immaculate condition. Someone clearly took a great deal of pride in keeping it pristine. 

"And we're here!" Laura said, throwing open a heavy oak door. The room was tiny, little more than a dorm, really, with two single beds opposite each other, an old, sturdy-looking wardrobe, a desk with a laptop and... an apparently live webcam, if the blinking red light was any indication. 

"Here, this is uh, my side," Laura gestured to the bed closest to the door, "but the other half of the room is all yours," she said, twiddling her thumbs as she shifted from foot to foot. "And uh, that there's the bathroom if you want to shower or whatever. You look like you're about my size, and well, falling out of Death and all you didn't exactly get a chance to pack, so you're welcome to borrow some of my clothes." 

"I dunno, cupcake, your things might be a little short for me," Carmilla teased. 

Laura rolled her eyes. "You're like, barely an inch taller than me, if that." 

"It's an important inch, sweetheart. And one that you don't have." 

"Oh my god, you are such a child." 

"And yet somehow I'm _still_ taller than you." 

"You're really not going to let this go, are you," Laura groaned. 

"Maybe I'm just curious," Carmilla said, the mischievous glint back in her eyes as she took a seat on her designated bed. "I at least have the excuse of having been born in an era where humanity as a whole was shorter; poorer diets, higher infant mortality and the like. What's your excuse, cupcake?" 

Laura didn’t dignify that with a response. Well, not a verbal one, at least--she’d grabbed a yellow pillow off her bed and threw it in Carmilla’s face in retaliation. (With Laura’s new awareness of her capabilities, catching a vampire off-guard with surprise pillow attacks was hardly a challenge, but the tiny human was more than a little smug when she saw Carmilla’s moment of open-mouthed shock as the pillow slid down her face.)

“Does that satisfy your curiosity?” Laura said sweetly, voice dripping with faux-innocence. 

“Well aren’t you full of surprises, cutie,” Carmilla drawled, quickly composing herself and hugging the pillow to her chest. “This is mine now, by the way. Seeing as it’s in my half-room and all--” 

“That’s my favorite pillow!” Laura protested as she dove across the small space between their beds to try and take it back. 

“That’s just too bad. You really shouldn’t throw away things you want to keep, sweetheart,” Carmilla said as she just barely yanked the pillow up out of Laura’s reach. 

“You were being insufferable! Now give it back!” Laura pulled herself up, kneeling on the bed and reaching for the pillow, brow furrowed in concentration as Carmilla laughed at her, thwarting her efforts by leaning back on the bed and angling the pillow away from her inch by inch, just out of reach until-- 

Laura stumbled and lost her balance, falling face first into Carmilla’s chest.

_Well. Now_ **_this_ ** _is an interesting development._

Neither of them moved; Carmilla, for her part, had no desire to break the spell. She was perfectly content with their current position. Laura though… had completely frozen up. She may not have known the tiny human for long, but the stunned silence seemed a tad uncharacteristic. 

Carmilla cleared her throat.

Laura didn’t respond. 

She tried again, coughing more loudly this time. “You okay down there, cupcake?” 

Laura suddenly jolted up and scurried back to the opposite end of the bed as a deluge of apologies cascaded from her lips. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I am so sorry--I totally didn’t mean to--and then I just--please just kill me now before I die of embarrassment--oh my god I’m so sorry that was so incredibly inappropriate and--” 

Carmilla pressed a finger to Laura’s lips, effectively cutting her off. “Breathe, cutie,” she chided. 

Laura nodded dumbly, her mouth snapped shut. She pulled back, closed her eyes, and took a few steadying breaths. 

“Better?” Carmilla asked, and Laura nodded again. 

“Good, because it’d make me a really shitty guest if I gave you a heart attack on my first day here, cupcake.” 

Laura laughed nervously, wringing her hands in her lap. “Yeah. I’m uh, really sorry about that, by the way. I really didn’t mean to, and I hope it doesn’t make things weird for you or… I mean, you made it clear you’re not comfortable with um, contact and I’m a kind of touchy person but it was totally an accident and...” 

“Hey,” Carmilla said softly, cutting her off again. 

She’d already picked up on Laura’s tendency toward physical affection, and while it wasn’t something she was used to, (centuries of the need to keep others at arm’s length would do that to a person) in the tiny human’s case she was finding that she surprisingly didn’t mind. 

Laura glanced up shyly, her face still flushed. “Hey.” 

Carmilla tentatively reached out and put her hand over Laura’s, smiling reassuringly. “It’s not a big deal, Laura. No harm done, okay?” 

“Okay,” Laura replied, hesitantly returning the smile. 

“No need for all of this twitchiness,” Carmilla said, gesturing broadly at Laura’s fidgeting with her free hand. 

“There is no twitching! There is an absence of twitching!” Laura protested, some of the fire back in her eyes. 

“I know I’m breathtaking, sweetheart, but it’s not every day I have to remind a girl to catch her breath. You really need to work on that hyperventilating habit of yours,” Carmilla teased, her face lighting up with a crooked grin. 

Laura grinned back. “I think I’d have to figure out how to keep my foot out of my mouth first. It tends to get in the way of the whole breathing thing,” she said ruefully. 

“Eh, breathing’s overrated anyway.” 

“Says the vampire,” Laura scoffed. 

“Touche,” Carmilla replied, squeezing Laura’s hand. “But it’d still be a damn shame. The little faux pas’s seem to be part of your charm, cupcake.” 

Laura’s grin widened, her eyes flashing with mischief. “Oh, so I’m charming now?”

“I’m sure you could be if you wanted. If you, say, didn’t go around throwing perfectly good yellow pillows into the faces of innocent young maidens…” Carmilla drawled. 

Laura snorted. “You’re a vampire, I’m pretty sure you’re not innocent, young, _or_ a maiden.” 

Carmilla’s grin turned positively _wicked._ “Guilty on all counts, cutie. Though a certain someone who just _happened_ to throw herself face first into the boobs of a virtual stranger might just have me beat.” 

“That’s--one, it was an _accident_ , and two, we had a moment! Like three of them! You let me vouch for you! We bonded! We’re like, acquaintances now at least! Friends! Buddies!” Laura squeaked. 

Carmilla raised a brow. “Buddies, huh?” 

“...can we agree to never speak of this again?” 

“Where’s the fun in that, cupcake?” 

“...if I let you _borrow_ my special yellow pillow, can we agree to never speak of this again?” 

Carmilla pulled back, grabbing the pillow and thoughtfully hefting it in her arms. It was decently fluffy but still firm, if obnoxiously bright. She hugged it to her chest and buried her face in it, inhaling deeply. It smelled like… warmth, and something sweet that she couldn’t quite place but that she liked _very_ much. Worth it, then.

“Looks like you've got yourself a deal here, creampuff,” she agreed, eyes sparkling back at Laura from over the yellow pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! This chapter just really did *not* want to work with me, but I'm happy with how it turned out, if not the countless drafts it took to get it where I wanted it to go ;D Enjoy!

_The Underworld was a dim and dreary place, the only light a faint gray-green glow that matched the impenetrable clouds that hung overhead in a thick miasma. It was hardly a surprise that the realm of the Dead was not a bright or cheery one, but even after literal centuries of exploring its countless caverns, it still had a way of filling Carmilla with unease._

_All things dead, or broken, or forgotten, or lost were claimed by the Underworld eventually. It was a land of ruin, of crumbling facades and towers worn away by centuries of the elements before they finally sunk into its depths, crushing the relics beneath in an ever-growing pile of histories lost to time._

_In all her hundreds of years, Carmilla had never found anything in Life that could match her Mother. (And she had hardly been the first of Mother's 'children' to try.) But perhaps in Death she could find the answers she sought._

_She tugged her cloak tighter, moving swift and silent as a shadow as she made her way down through the topmost layer; nothing on the surface would be worth a second glance here. No, she needed something ancient and terrible if she was to risk the wrath of her mother. Only the deepest pits of Hell would do._

_"You know Maman doesn't like it when you go out of her sight. Especially with another likely candidate so close," said a voice behind her. "Really, Kitty Cat, what could you possibly be thinking in that pretty little head of yours?"_

_Carmilla chuckled, letting the tension bleed out of her shoulders. "Hey Mattie," she said, turning around to greet her sister. One of the oldest of Mother's children, Mattie was a vampire like herself, and more than a thousand years old. It was she who had tended to Carmilla, helping her adjust when she had first been turned, and again when after decades in the dark she crawled out of the coffin their mother had entombed her in._

_"Perhaps I'm not thinking at all," Carmilla admitted softly. What did she hope to accomplish, when dozens of her siblings, all older and stronger and wiser, had failed?_

_Mattie snorted. "Clearly, you little monster," she said affectionately, stepping forward and wrapping her sister up in her arms. "I knew you'd be up to something, but this is spectacularly unwise, even for you."_

_"I'm running out of time, Mattie," Carmilla replied._

_"Not if Mother's latest toy doesn't pan out. They certainly haven't before, why would they start now? Honestly, Kitty, there's no need for these dramatics when we don't yet know anything for certain. The last thing you need is to run afoul of Maman now."_

_Carmilla pulled away, shaking her head. "It's been more than three hundred years. My luck's bound to run out eventually; and sooner rather than later, no doubt. The mark has already survived being branded twice this time, Mattie. Do you know how long it's been since that's happened?"_

_"What's a few centuries, give or take? You know I love you, darling, but you've always assumed the worst. It's quite unbecoming."_

_"Maybe because I've seen the worst," Carmilla snapped. "And I'm done. I'm done running away, I'm done hiding, I'm done being afraid of her, Mattie. No more just waiting around for her to finally have the excuse to put me down for good."_

_"Careful," Mattie warned. "That's the kind of talk that leads to getting buried alive."_

_Carmilla chuckled darkly. "Or worse?"_

_"Or worse," Mattie agreed, raising an eyebrow. "Come, darling, enough of this--"_

_"Did you know?"_

_"Know what, Kitty Cat?"_

_"Did you know what she was doing? What she's done to me? What she's using them, using all of us for?"_

_"Honestly, Mircalla, this again?"_

_"She brands them like animals! Branded me, Mattie. Marked them, marked_ **_me_ ** _for the slaughter. Making us into her twisted little gestalts because while even gods can die, as Maman so fondly reminds us, she can't kill them on her own. No, she has to pay a price, has to replace them, keep the balance somehow. And the only reason I'm alive is because she still needs one more for whatever ritual it is she plans to use for her twisted ends."_

_Mattie eyed her with an unreadable expression. "So you have been listening when Maman talks business, darling."_

_"Enough to know what's really going on." Carmilla shrugged._

_Mattie didn't understand, didn't care; she'd taken a run at Maman before herself before, sure. Taken several, in fact. But out of pettiness, or arrogance, or wounded pride. Never out of necessity. She paced back and forth, prowling like a cat as she tried to work out her frustrations. Taking them out on Mattie would be as painful as it was stupid; the older vampire could snap her like a twig, and for all her affection, would do so without a second thought if Carmilla provoked her._

_"Do you really know what's going on, though?" a voice said, another player joining the conversation, the harsh metallic tang of molten metal assaulting Carmilla’s senses, signalling the arrival of another of Mother's children, one not much older than Carmilla herself, one neither vampiric nor branded._

_"Sannem," Mattie said, rolling her eyes, tone dripping with distaste as a small figure formed from the shadows around them, as if it were eating up what little light that existed here in the Underworld. Not only was Sannem one of Mother's 'children,' but the only one of them who was actually a child themself. Sannem hadn’t aged in centuries, despite supposedly not being ageless. They claimed it was out of spite, that they refused to age as long as Lilith called herself their mother._

_Short and slight in their default form, Sannem was exceedingly young for a demon, though Carmilla supposed that since they were a half-mortal abomination (and those rarely lived long or happy lives) their age mattered little. The child was the first of Mother's children that she met and had been with Maman when she had sought Carmilla out for the brand._

_"Matska," the figure replied curtly, nodding their head in greeting. "I'll tell Lilith that you've done your part here. I'm certain you'd much rather be playing somewhere off in mortality. Where is it you've taken to this century? Milan, was it? Or are you still in Marrakech?"_

_"Easy, Sannem," Carmilla said quickly. Mattie had never liked the demon child--she wasn't exactly fond of demons or children in general, and the two combined with the fact that Mother kept Sannem on such a tight leash had made for an instant dislike between the two._

_"Anything you have to say to our dear sister, abomination," Mattie's eyes narrowed dangerously, "can be said in front of me."_

_"Very well," the child agreed, twisting their head (for their shadowy form had no face) to make a show of glancing between the two sisters. "I suppose there's little danger of being overheard here. If you truly wish to obliterate the monstrosity known as Lilith," Sannem started._

_"Still refusing to call her mother, little one? No wonder she keeps you on such a tight leash," Mattie needled._

_The shadows flared, and Sannem snapped their head back to Mattie. "Lilith is no such thing," they ground out, as if speaking through clenched teeth. "I have two mothers, and that woman is not and never will be one of them."_

_"Let them speak, Mattie," Carmilla interjected, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder. She’d never been very close with Sannem, as Maman often kept them under close watch, but she’d never shared Mattie’s dislike of them, either. Demonic abomination or not, Sannem was still a child, and she’d had no reason to provoke them. (Unlike Will, who she had antagonized at every turn.)_

_Mattie rolled her eyes again, but nodded for Sannem to go on._

_"Given the... restrictions Lilith has me under, I cannot ever openly oppose her," the child continued._

_Mattie snorted, and Carmilla silenced her with a glare._

_"But Lilith is far from the most powerful being in Life or Death. There are beings, powers... weapons that could best her. Naturally, I know more of the ones here in the Underworld, but there are other options. I could provide information of one such weapon, in exchange for a promise." Sannem paused, turning back to Carmilla, seeming to study her face._

_She felt Mattie’s eyes on her, heard the warnings about making deals with demons rising up in her older sister’s throat before the vampire could voice them, but she paid them no mind. Instead Carmilla returned the child’s gaze, and simply nodded. "I'm listening, Sannem."_

 

***

 

Carmilla sat up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She resolved to deal with the dream… memory… thing later.

_More flashbacks. Great. Just what I needed right now._

Once again she had awoken to an empty room, sometime in the late afternoon if the warm light streaming through cracks in the blinds was any sign. She rolled out of bed, a crinkled sheet torn out of a notebook falling to the floor at the motion.

_"Hi Carm!_

_That is, assuming you ever actually wake up, since you kinda sleep like the dead. (Pun not intended, sorry!) I'll just be helping out with odds and ends around the Enclave, as things'll be a bit busier around here than the day before, since most of our residents were out taking care of a minor otherworldly incident yesterday. Come say hi! If you're up by then, you'd better be at dinner so I can properly introduce you to everyone, Missy! JP lent me an enchanted map of the grounds that I've left on the desk for you. Figured you could use it, since the Enclave's a finicky mess even to those of us who've lived here for years, and well, hoped it would maybe help you settle in a bit. See you (hopefully!) at dinner!_

_-Laura"_

Carmilla smiled and carefully folded up the letter, setting it on the bedspread and then padded over to the desk. Sure enough, there was a map, made of yellowed parchment with shifting black ink, though the rooms labelled 'residences,' including 'Laura's Room,' seemed to stay stable enough. (The vampire quietly thanked whatever powers governed the Enclave's shifting spaces for small favors; having their room defy the laws of physics while she was trying to sleep could not be a pleasant experience.)

She folded up the map and set it next to Laura's note, when she spied yet another letter taped to the wardrobe.

_"I know you didn't exactly have the chance to pack or anything, but we should be roughly the same size. You're welcome to borrow anything in here, but I've set out some stuff I think you might like! ;D_

_-Laura"_

Carmilla opened the wardrobe, and spotted a post-it labelled 'Carm'.... on top of the most hideous sweater vest in creation: a light beige monstrosity with a cutesy brown owl cartoon in the middle.

"You have got to be kidding me," the vampire muttered. She nudged the sweater aside to (thankfully) reveal a simple black v-neck and a pair of olive green cargo pants, which, needless to say, were much more to her tastes.

"Gonna have to try harder than that if you want to ruin my badass image, cupcake," Carmilla chuckled, then changed out of her borrowed pajamas and tucked the map and notes into her pockets.

She paused just as she was about to head toward the door; vampiric senses being what they are, she tended to tune most of them out simply to stay sane. But centuries of paranoia, of being both hunter and hunted from time to time, had taught her to never miss the sound of a heartbeat, the sound of someone waiting in the hallway nearby.

Carmilla shook off the dread creeping up her spine. So what if she wasn’t alone? The Enclave was home to dozens of people, and the fact that they had a pulse meant they were mortal. While she still had her doubts about how safe she would be here, a single mortal could hardly be considered a threat.

With that thought, she threw open the door.

“Whoa! You’re um, not Laura.”

“I see you have a firm grasp of the obvious,” Carmilla said drily, eyeing the overgrown puppy of a man in front of her. He was inordinately tall, muscular, with buzzed brown hair and the goofiest face she had ever seen.

“Ha, um, yeah,” the man stuttered. “You uh, must be the little nerd hottie’s Guest! I’m Kirsch, I help out here with Laura and D-bear,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Carmilla glanced at his hand and pointedly didn’t take it. “Charmed,” she drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

After a few awkward moments, Kirsch pulled his hand back and reached up to rub the back of his head, and Carmilla noted that her initial observation was spot on; the man was indeed an overgrown _kicked_ puppy.

“I’m guessing she’s uh, not in there then?”

“No.”

“Oh, so she’s probably like in the library or something. I need to talk to her about some stuff, so we could go see her together if you want?” Kirsch asked.

“Hard pass,” Carmilla replied, pulling the map out of her pocket and already walking away. She could find Laura on her own later, and she felt like she could use some blood right now anyways. Just because she was a _Guest_ here didn’t mean she had to make nice with all the annoying little humans that lived in the Enclave.

“Hey wait!” Kirsch ran after her. “You’re a Guest, least I could do would be to keep you company while you’re here, help show you around or something.”

“No need, beefcake.” Carmilla gritted her teeth, walking faster. She could hear voices up ahead, just down the hall. While the last thing she needed was to be around more people, perhaps the distraction would allow her to ditch the puppy. She could have just used a burst of superhuman speed, but using it in an unfamiliar, not to mention rather enclosed space, would have been… unwise.

“It’s the least I could do um--I never got your name, actually?” Kirsch said, jogging to keep up with her.

“Never gave it to you, bro-for-brains,” Carmilla snapped. “Since you seem to be too dense to take a hint, let me spell it out for you: _leave me alone._ ” She rounded a corner and the hall opened up to the courtyard, where a rather large group of people had gathered.

And apparently the puppy was _still_ following her.

Suddenly, one of the group, an inordinately tall woman with long red hair broke away, sprinted up to them and grabbed Kirsch by the ear.

 _“Wilson,”_ she said sternly as she tugged him towards the hedges. “I know you and Laura have this thing where you have more _niceness_ than common sense, but seriously?”

Carmilla paused, noting that the voice sounded familiar somehow. _Ah._ It was the overprotective one who’d been arguing with Laura outside the door when she’d been in the infirmary. ...Danny, was it?

She folded her arms, taking a moment to enjoy the show as this _Danny_ chewed out the overgrown frat boy.

“Whoa, D-bear, not cool!” Kirsch exclaimed.

“‘Not cool?’ You’re the one antagonizing the vampire! Not that I’d mind too much if she broke your arms or whatever--”

“Hey!”

“--but she’s literally _Laura’s Guest,_ so let’s not get too chummy with the supernatural predator and try and _avoid_ making more trouble, hmm?”

The crowd in the courtyard had dispersed somewhat, the onlookers’ attention grabbed by Danny and Kirsch’s argument; Carmilla wasn’t the only one watching the show.

But not all of them were watching the show, it seemed. _Danger,_ her senses whispered as she felt eyes on her, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Fists clenched, Carmilla forced the impulse down, scanning the crowd for the source, and finally, she met the gaze of an achingly familiar face.

An unruly mop of wavy black hair, angular features and hawkish nose softened by chubby cheeks, and blazing dark eyes so like her own. A short, slight child; like her, he had always been small for his age, and as he rested on a crutch, one of his legs in a cast, he looked even smaller.

She _knew_ that face, even centuries later, when the child was long dead. Friedrich, the only son of the Count Karnstein, her father’s favorite, and the only good she’d known in the world when she had been mortal. She had had governesses and suitors, and he had had nurses and tutors, but he had been her only friend in their father’s house, and she his. He had been a sweet boy, gentle in all the ways she had been abrasive, kind as she was callous, and clever enough despite the difference in their years for him to keep up with her.

He had died shortly after her murder, when in 1701 the entire Karnstein household had been stricken with fever, and the line had died with him. Friedrich had been the only part of her mortal life that she had truly missed, and that she hadn’t saved him, hadn’t even said goodbye, remained one of her greatest regrets.

Yes, she knew that face, and it _burned_ because she knew the one who wore it had picked it deliberately for that reason.

The child who wore her brother’s face held her gaze for a moment longer, then gave her a knowing smile. Carmilla turned away, gripping the map in her hands tighter as she all but bolted from the courtyard, the unmistakable scent of molten metal and dying stars filling her lungs.

Blood. She needed blood.

 

***

 

After retrieving a travel mug filled with blood from the ‘blood fridge’ in the kitchens, (apparently Perry was _very_ particular about maintaining a separate place for ‘hazardous materials’ in her kitchen, and knowing that the woman had already staked one vampire so far, she was disinclined to argue,) Carmilla had found herself wandering to the library, aimlessly perusing the shelves in an attempt to distract herself from the knowledge that Maman knew where she was.

_Or maybe she doesn’t, not yet._

In her dream, Sannem had offered her a deal--clearly, her sibling wanted Mother out of the way just as much as she did. But wherever Sannem was, Maman was never far. And even the ‘deal’ the child had offered her, or their presence here, or _both_ could have just been Maman playing mind games.

It seemed she’d already made up her mind on the matter, even before Laura had insisted on fighting, if the dream she’d had was to be believed. Running from Maman had never worked before, and regardless of Sannem’s intentions, hardly seemed to be working now. Carmilla had little choice but to fight and hope for the best.

“Oh hey! I thought I’d have to come wake you up!” Laura’s voice pulled Carmilla from her thoughts, the tiny human apparently having just come out of one of the back rooms, immediately darting to the vampire.

Carmilla chuckled, welcoming the distraction. “Gods help you if you tried, creampuff. Apparently, I ‘sleep like the dead.’ Which I suppose is hardly surprising, considering I _am_ dead…”

“Hey, I apologized for the pun!” Laura protested, and Carmilla’s smile widened at her _adorable_ faux-indignation.

“I dunno, cupcake, some things are unforgivable, and puns just might be one of them,” she teased, affectionately ruffling Laura’s hair before she could think better of it.

Laura scoffed. “Please, there are _way_ worse things than puns.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point, cutie,” Carmilla replied, running her fingers through the other girl’s hair. It was so easy to forget herself with Laura, to simply _be_ rather than maintain her walls and pretenses.

“You okay?” Laura asked. “You seem kind of spacy.”

“I’m fine,” Carmilla said quickly, dropping her hand; closing herself off again. “Just… had some strange dreams.”

Laura made a face. “I always get really nasty ones after coming out of the Underworld, too. Well, nothing getting some food in you can’t help, right?” she said brightly.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow and shook her travel mug. “I think I’m good.”

“Ha-ha. Just because you don’t need to eat _food- f_ ood doesn’t mean you’re getting out of dinner, missy!”

“So I’ve heard. Well, cupcake, cute as you are, what makes you think I’m going to go along?”

“Well…” Laura drawled, fluttering her eyelashes. “I _could_ bust out my tried-and-true puppy dog eyes, but I’d hate to make a Guest explode from overexposure to adorableness so soon.”

“‘Explode,’ huh?”

Laura ignored her commentary. “How about a bet?” she suggested instead, taking a seat at one of the library tables, motioning for Carmilla to do the same.

“What kind of bet are we talking, creampuff?” Carmilla asked, eyes flashing with mischief as she sat down next to Laura.

“Arm wrestling. I win, you’re coming to dinner to meet everyone with me. You win… how about I let you borrow my favorite pillow for another night?”

“Well that hardly seems fair, buttercup.”

Laura grinned. “Aw, Carm, don’t tell me the big bad vampire is afraid of a little friendly competition!”

Carmilla rolled her eyes at the obvious goading, but held out her hand to the tiny human anyway.

“Fine. You’re on, cupcake.”

Laura squealed in delight and took Carmilla’s hand. “Okay, 1... 2...3...Go!”

Carmilla hadn’t had any intention of going easy on Laura, but there wasn’t much she could do but gape when the tiny human leaned in, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and immediately slammed Carmilla’s hand against the table.

“I win!” Laura exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and grinning from ear to ear as Carmilla tried to remember how to formulate words. “Come on, don’t be a spoilsport, Carm!” She tugged on the vampire’s hand, having never let go after ‘winning’ their bet, pulling Carmilla to her feet, “You lost so you owe me dinner, missy!”

Carmilla blinked slowly. “While I’m pretty sure that was cheating, creampuff, I don’t see how I’m the loser in this scenario,” she said, as Laura dragged her out of the library.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When in doubt, add OC's, shake vigorously, and see what comes out!
> 
> Also, you may recognize that last scene from Disney's John Henry 0:)
> 
> Comments fuel flighty fic writers, hit me with them! Thoughts, questions, inarticulate screaming? All accepted and indeed hoped for!


	6. Chapter 6

The harsh tang of molten metal hit Carmilla like a ton of bricks as soon as Laura tugged her into the dining hall. She froze, heels digging in of their own accord as she searched the crowded benches for--

 _Hello again, Mircalla,_ a voice said, reaching out to her mind as she met the gaze of the child she’d seen in the courtyard earlier, the one who had worn the face of her long dead mortal brother.

Carmilla groaned. Sannem was seated at a table with LaFontaine, Perry, and Danny, their head resting on the latter’s shoulder. Because _of course_ they had to have attached themself to the Amazon.

She glared, reaching out deliberately to make sure the demon heard her. _What do you want, Sannem?_

“Carm? You okay?” Laura glanced back at her, brow furrowed with concern. “And I _know_ vampires can’t get sick, so don’t think you can fake it just to get out of your bet--”

“It’s nothing. Let’s just get this over with.” While she was hardly looking forward to dinner with a pile of lackwits and a demon child, like _hell_ was she about to leave Sannem alone with them.

Sannem gave her a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow as they noticed Laura was holding Carmilla’s hand as the two of them took a seat at Sannem’s table.

The table that immediately went silent.

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed. _Not one word, Hellboy._

_I’m the product of a queer interspecies romance. As if I’d disapprove._

_'Queer interspecies romance--’ oh fuck no, pipsqueak. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throttle you right now._

_You mean, besides the fact that you’d be attacking what appears to be a human child, in a room full of mortals trained specifically to take down creatures like you and me?_

Carmilla grit her teeth, biting back a groan of frustration. _Fine. We’ll talk later._

“So!” Laura said brightly, the first to break the silence. “This is my Guest, and apparently our second newest one--” she grinned at Sannem, and then turned to gesture at-- “Carmilla!”

“The vampire,” Danny added. She slid closer on the bench to Sannem, putting an arm around the child’s shoulders.

 _She’s trying to protect them,_ Carmilla noted with more than a hint of amusement. She arched an eyebrow at Sannem, silently questioning them, but they just gave her a small smile and shrugged, snuggling closer to Danny in response.

“Yeah, the vampire,” Laura echoed, shooting Danny a glare. “I thought everybody could introduce themselves _and be on their best behavior.”_

Apparently the Ginger Giant was oblivious enough to miss the warning in Laura’s tone. Or perhaps she just didn’t care, because she went on talking regardless.

“Laura, are you sure bringing a _vampire_ who we don’t even know to dinner with a kid who just survived a demon attack is a good idea?” Danny hissed.

Carmilla glanced at her seatmate when she heard Laura’s blood pressure spike, watching with interest as her jaw tensed. Huh. So apparently there was some fight in the cupcake, because right about now she looked fit to murder the Amazon seated across from her.

“But vampires and demons are completely different creatures,” Sannem piped up, their small voice completely diffusing the tension.

Damn them and their stolen face and voice that didn’t belong to them. Sannem sounded exactly like her younger brother had, and even Carmilla at her broodiest had never been able to say no to it. 

The dimwit squad didn’t stand a chance. 

Damn. Just when things were about to get interesting, too.

LaFontaine, who was seated next to Laura, grinned at Sannem’s observation. “Very true, kiddo. That’s just the sort of pragmatic thinking we need around here. Maybe you’d like to help me out in the lab sometime while you’re here?”

“Whoa, Simon’s leg just got broken in a demon attack. Let’s not immediately jump into anything traumatizing,” Danny interjected.

Perry nodded. “Your lab isn’t exactly safe for children, sweetie,” she said, giving LaFontaine’s hand a squeeze. “Maybe you can show Simon your lab some other time. After we’ve added some more safety precautions, of course.”

 _Simon? Really?_ Carmilla thought deliberately at the demon child.

 _You’re one to talk, ‘Carmilla,’_ they shot back.

_Touche._

“Before we start planning any exciting lab encounters for our Guests, maybe everyone at the table could introduce themselves?” Laura piped up before another argument could start brewing.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Laura.” Perry turned to face Sannem. “I’m Lola Perry, but most everyone just calls me Perry. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Simon.” She held out her hand and Sannem simply stared for a few moments before hesitantly reaching out to shake it, a bemused expression on their face all the while.

“And this weirdo over here,” Perry nodded to her right and gave Laf a disgustingly affectionate smile, “is Dr LaFontaine, my partner.”

“You can just call me Laf, though,” they offered. “And I don’t know if you know much about different pronouns, but mine are they/them. Because I’m nonbinary, which just means I’m not a boy or a girl.”

Sannem nodded. “I know what it means. I’m the same way. After all, gender is just a concept made up by humans.”

“Funny, you talk about humans as if you aren’t one,” Carmilla drawled, blatantly baiting them. “Have something else you’d like to share with the class, half-pint?”

Sannem’s eyes flashed, their demeanor completely changing in an instant from ‘shy adorable wunderkind’ to ‘possibly feral animal’ as they snarled at Carmilla and bared their fangs at her.

“No, Mircalla, because unlike you, some of us can’t afford to make a mess of things,” they snapped and stood up, their crutch forgotten as they stormed from the table.

“Hey, kiddo, wait!” Danny shouted, jumping up and chasing after them.

LaFontaine grabbed the crutch, eyeing it curiously. “...Whoa. Wasn’t their leg broken?”

“Yes, yes it was,” Perry said as she blinked rapidly, trying to reconcile the contradiction.

“Carmilla,” Laura said tersely, all but dragging Carm to her feet. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Um, _what the hell was that?_ ” she demanded after she pulled Carmilla out of the dining hall and into a hallway.

Carmilla shrugged. “Entertaining?”

“Don’t,” Laura warned. “They called you Mircalla. You haven’t told anyone but me that name while you’ve been here. And they _just_ happened to show up right after you did, which I’m betting wasn’t a coincidence. So can you just tell me what we’re dealing with here? Obviously you know Simon somehow.”

“Sannem,” Carmilla corrected through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“Their name is Sannem. They’re a… pet project of my mother’s. As far as I know, they’re not Branded either, just a toy Maman keeps close to her.”

“But they’re just a kid!”

“Yeah, and so were you when Maman scooped you up the first time. Things like ‘scruples’ and ‘morals’ aren’t really her style.”

“And she’s just… using them? For what?”

“Who knows?” Carmilla shrugged. “What does anyone bind a half-demon to their will for?”

“Hold up, that kid--Simon--Sammy _\--_ they’re a _demon?”_

“Um, yeah. That’s literally what I just said, buttercup.”

“Oh my god.”

Inexplicably, Laura burst into giggles.

“Everything okay down there, cupcake?” Carmilla asked, eyebrows raised and more than a little concerned when Laura showed no signs of stopping.

“Sorry… I just…” Laura gasped between fits of laughter. “ _Danny_ brought them here, she found them out in the woods all alone, and I just,” she cut herself off with more giggling.

“Do you have any idea how much shit she gave me for bringing _you_ here? She’s been lecturing me _all day!_ And then she goes and brings a way more dangerous, _literal demon_ here--”

Carmilla scoffed. “First of all, ‘way more dangerous’ is total bullshit, I could take that twerp in a fight any day--”

“Sure, sure, of course you can.” Laura waved her off before she burst into giggles again. “Oh I can’t _wait_ to see her face when I tell her.”

“Well, good thing _someone_ is enjoying this disaster waiting to happen,” Carmilla remarked.

Laura had the decency to flush at that. “Sorry, sorry. Anyways… this _Sannem,_ ” she said carefully, testing out the name in her mouth. “They know what your Mother’s doing? Maybe they could help us get some answers?”

Carmilla leaned back against the wall and ran her fingers through her hair, her telltale nervous habit. She sighed. “Yeah. They could. Or they could just feed us false information and drag one or both of us back to _Mommy Dearest._ ”  

“Well, we’ll just have to be careful then,” Laura said, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure something out, okay? Demon or no demon, I did say I was going to keep you safe, remember?”

Carmilla snorted. “I’m a vampire, I hardly need protecting.”

“Your arm wrestling skills say otherwise,” Laura teased.

“Really? That’s the measure you’re going to use? You only won because you cheated, cupcake.”

“I couldn’t have broken any rules because we didn’t _set_ any rules. Therefore, it wasn’t cheating.”

Carmilla backed down, sensing this was an argument that she wasn’t going to win. Besides, she hadn’t really minded Laura’s ‘cheating’ anyways.

“You’re really fucking lucky you’re cute, creampuff,” she huffed.

Laura beamed. “Aren’t I?” she said sweetly, and then tugged on Carmilla’s sleeve. “Come on, we should go find your demon friend before they get you into anymore trouble.”

 

***

 

They found Sannem in the courtyard hidden behind one of the shrubs, their borrowed human face gone (and replaced by the wispy, humanoid void shape Carmilla had seen in her dream) but clearly staring straight ahead of themself, watching a small, bubbling birdbath with rapt fascination.

“Miss Lawrence is fine, if you were wondering. She’s rather nice for a mortal, so I just sent her off and temporarily hazed her memories of my outburst so she wouldn’t worry,” they said simply, unmoving as the two women approached.

“I do apologize for that, by the way. I shouldn’t have let you get under my skin, but I also shouldn’t have antagonized you in the first place. Your brother’s face was merely the easiest for me to slip into. His was the first human shape I learned,” Sannem continued.

“Brother…?” Laura asked, glancing between them.

“What, didn’t you notice the resemblance earlier, creampuff?” Carmilla said, letting out a soft, breathy laugh. “Brother from my mortal family,” she clarified. “Half-pint over there was with Maman when I was turned 300 years ago. I imagine they used Friedrich’s form then so they could watch me for Mother without raising suspicion.”

She shot Sannem a warning glare. “Never use his face again.”

“I won’t,” they promised, and to Carmilla’s surprise, they seemed genuinely contrite.  

“Wait, you said they were a kid--” Laura started.

Carmilla shrugged. “Demons age weirdly. Abominations like Sannem even more so. They’re kinda still in the ‘pretentious teenager’ stage of adolescence.”

“The same stage that apparently Mircalla has yet to age out of herself,” Sannem quipped.

“Watch it, pipsqueak,” Carmilla growled, but there was no malice in it. This was the most time she’d ever spent with Sannem without Mother being present, and not that she would ever admit it, the little abomination was starting to grow on her.

“Admittedly, our dear vampire acquaintance ceased ageing at eighteen, while I’m more likely somewhere around the human equivalent of thirteen or fourteen,” they explained. “While _‘Carmilla’_ merely seems incapable of emotional maturity, my own state is intentional. _I_ refuse to mature for Lilith’s sake.”

Laura frowned in concentration, taking a moment to digest Sannem’s infodump.“Okay, not that I don’t have a bajillion questions about pretty much everything else you just said, but first: who the hell is Lilith?”

“Our mother,” Carmilla supplied.

 _“Your_ mother,” Sannem snarled. “She has no right to the title in any case, but especially so in mine.”

“It’s apparently a sore spot for fun-size over there,” Carmilla explained.

“With good reason,” Sannem snapped.

“I’ll keep that in mind,”  Laura said, then knelt down so that she could be face to face with Sannem, and offered them her hand. “I didn’t get the chance to properly introduce myself earlier, so… I’m Laura.”

“I know who you are,” Sannem said quietly, frozen in place.

“Well, considering where you’re coming from, I can’t say I’m surprised there.” Laura smiled reassuringly at them. “Still, it’s nice to meet you, Sannem.”

Sannem’s form flickered, the wisps of void and shadow dancing for a moment and then settling down as they tentatively took the human’s hand.

“You can’t possibly mean that,” they said, voice thick with something like wonder.

Yep. Laura Hollis seemed to have that effect on creatures of the Underworld, and Carmilla was torn between being impressed or irritated that it extended to Sannem, too.

Laura’s grin widened and her eyes flashed mischievously. “Too bad. I do.”

Sannem tilted their head to glance up at Carmilla. “Ooh, I like her much better than Miss Sheridan already,” they said mischievously.

Carmilla spluttered. “Whoa, we are _definitely_ not going there tonight, or preferably, _ever_ , shortstack--”

“There’s even a passing resemblance between the two; do you have a _type?_ ” they mused.

“You will stop talking if you enjoy your head still being attached to your shoulders, small fry.”

“Still touchy about that, I see,” Sannem continued, and Carmilla snarled, her fangs slotting into place.

“Whoa, okay, let’s just take a step back here. Or maybe like, twenty,” Laura suggested, eyes darting warily between them as she put a hand on the vampire’s arm in case she needed to hold Carmilla back.  “ _You’re_ still my Guest, Carm. And Sannem, you’re…?”

“Lacking my full name, Miss Lawrence didn’t get around to making me a Guest, no,” they said. 

“Would you like to be? A Guest, that is,” Laura asked, sitting down cross-legged next to Sannem on the turf. 

They flinched. “Unfortunately, I cannot take you up on that offer. Should everything not go according to plan, I would be forced to take you to Lilith, Miss Hollis.”

“Not happening,” Carmilla snapped. Purely for selfish reasons, of course. Obviously just because if her mother got her hooks into Laura, Carmilla would be next on the chopping block.

And nothing more.

Sannem chuckled and tilted their head up at Carmilla to acknowledge her outburst before they turned back to Laura. “Regardless, I would have no choice but to _attempt_ to bring you to Carmilla’s mother. And the consequences of violating the Enclave’s hospitality would be… dire to say the least.”

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that,” Laura said, laughing nervously. “What was that about a plan?”

“Oh right, do tell us about this mysterious plan of yours, half-pint,” Carmilla drawled.

“You still don’t remember?” Sannem asked, head quirked to the side as they seemed to study Carmilla’s face. “That’s odd, it should have come back by now.”

“Bits and pieces, but not much else,” Carmilla grumbled.

“May I try something?” Sannem asked, beckoning her closer. “Nothing invasive or painful--just going to directly lift the haze I put over you.”

“You sure about this, shortstack?” Carmilla said dubiously as she sat down on the grass in front of them.

They nodded. “If I hurt you, I’m pretty sure your oh-so-friendly Enclave will have something remarkably unpleasant in store for me. Like, say, setting me on fire. So yes. I wouldn’t offer unless I was sure. I have been doing this as long as you have, after all.”

Carmilla nodded half-heartedly, grunting her assent. And then Sannem gingerly reached out and placed their shadowy hands on her temples.

She stiffened at the touch. The sensation was… strange to say the least. Sannem’s void-form was ephemeral and _warm,_ as if they were made of the steam rising from a hot drink, and whatever they were doing, it felt like they were stirring something around in her head.

_The cold-burning cut of a silver knife and a gray-green sky overhead, the hilt in a hand of shadow and stardust and an abyss where the child should have had a face._

Carmilla wrenched Sannem’s hands away with a growl, seizing them by the wrists.

“ _Motherfucker--_ you stabbed me!”

“Well, yes,” Sannem admitted, and even without a face they somehow managed to give her the impression they were looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “After you ran off to the Underworld without a plan, _I_ still had to report to Lilith that I tried to bring you back. I had to have silver burns and your blood on my hands at the very least to prove my obedience.”

“So you stabbed me,” Carmilla deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

“And then Matska broke my leg. You definitely got the better end of that bargain, Mircalla.”

“‘Matska?’” Laura interjected.

“My sister.” “Her sister.” Carmilla and Sannem said at the same time.

“She’s never liked me,” the demon child added.

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Laura swatted Carmilla in the arm and turned to Sannem. “So, what is this plan of yours?”

“Well, it’s not an entire plan, but a vital piece of information,” they hedged.

Carmilla rolled her eyes at them. Whatever Sannem’s little trick was, it had worked. She remembered the offer they had made her back in the Underworld.

“What the little weasel means is that if I get rid of the leverage Mother has over them, they’ll give me the exact location of the Blade of Hastur.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sannem offered their hand to shake. "Yes yes you help me, I help you find a sword 'forged from the bones of starspawn and meant to shatter all who oppose it.' That’s a fair enough trade, is it not?”

Carmilla eyed the demon disdainfully. "I wasn’t born yesterday, pipsqueak. Half-mortal or not, I’m not agreeing to doing anything with a demon until I get some more details."

"It's not something I ask lightly,” Sannem hedged. “If you try and fail, or if you decide to give me up to Lilith to save your own skin, the consequences will be dire.”

Carmilla scoffed. “This is Mother we’re talking about, that goes without saying.”

“If you try and escape her again, she _will_ find you, and she will know that we conspired together. There can be no half-measures here, Mircalla; not like when you tried to run away with--what was her name? That English girl, Elle--”

Pale hands shot out and wrapped around Sannem’s neck, lifting them off their feet.

 _“Enough,”_ Carmilla snapped, fangs bared, a red haze clouding the edges of her vision, blood roaring in her ears. She wanted nothing more than to bend the little abomination until they broke, to shatter their bones and grind them into dust--

How _dare_ they speak of that, of _her..._ as if it was all _nothing._

She knew Sannem was just trying to make her angry, pushing her buttons to distract her and make her forget any doubts. That was their way. Mother’s way. Anything to get what they wanted, no matter the cost.

“You may claim to despise her, to not be one of her precious _children,_ but by god there’s none of us more like her than you,” she spat. There was no greater condemnation she could throw at them; and she knew Sannem knew it too, the demon child wisely not firing back with a retort.

Her blood was singing in her veins, ringing in her ears. It would be so _easy,_ so gratifying to just kill them right there, to put an end to their meddling and deprive Maman of one of her favorite toys all in one stroke. Just one little _twist,_ and she could snap their neck, wrest their head from their shoulders--

 _“Carm,”_ Laura admonished, her voice close and warm and insistent. 

Carmilla shook her head, not quite able to make herself let go, but held Sannem further away from her as if they were something vile as she struggled to clear her head.

“Carmilla, _stop!”_

That did it, the red haze fading as Laura placed both hands over one of hers and Carmilla let her tug it away, leaving her holding Sannem up one-handed as she tried to rein herself in.

They were just a child, one who had lived through 300 years of baggage and brainwashing just as she had. They didn’t deserve to die for that. But Sannem had known _exactly_ what they were getting into when they brought Elle into the conversation, and she wasn’t about to let them off lightly for that.

Carmilla tossed Sannem into the fountain with a sickening crack. “Get out of my sight, and don’t you dare make another clumsy attempt at manipulating me ever again, sword or no sword, because I swear I will tear you apart,” she snarled, head bowed and shoulders shaking as she struggled to keep her more murderous impulses in check.

“That’s fair,” Sannem said weakly, then vanished into the shadows.

“Are they--are they okay? Er, _will_ they be okay? Are _you_ okay?” Laura stammered.

Carmilla shrugged, all the fight gone out of her with Sannem out of the picture. “They’re a demon, they’re stronger than they look. And they’d heal soon enough regardless. As for that last part…” she trailed off and hesitantly risked glancing up to study Laura’s face.

Laura’s face was filled with concern, her brow furrowed and her gaze soft as she studied Carmilla in turn. She still held Carmilla’s hand in both of hers--Laura wasn’t afraid of her at all--and she realized that Laura’s concern wasn’t for her own personal well-being, (...which admittedly raised some doubts as to whether or not the tiny human even _had_ a self-preservation instinct in there) but on the _vampire’s_ behalf.

Her throat went dry, and Carmilla swallowed thickly, unable to fully wrap her head around that particular realization.

“I… I’m fine. Thank you,” she said quietly, ducking her head and staring down at her feet, suddenly ashamed of her outburst.

She shouldn’t have lost control like that. It was foolish, it was _stupid,_ and it was nothing more than a tantrum, a waste of time and energy that accomplished nothing.

Even worse, it had risked her losing Laura’s goodwill--that she had it at all, and how easily it had been given, was terrifying enough--but the thought of _losing it?_ That terrified her more by far.

For the first time in over a century, she gave a damn about what someone else thought of her. And by god, she _did_ give a damn about Laura Hollis. Somehow, in a matter of days, the stubborn, ridiculously sweet little human had wormed her way into her heart. 

Laura gently nudged her shoulder against Carmilla’s. “You wanna talk about what just happened here?”

“Not particularly,” Carmilla admitted. “And not here. But after that little display, at the very least you deserve an explanation. Hells, after that, you have every right to toss me out on my ass.”

“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Laura said wryly, a hint of amusement in her voice as she gave Carmilla’s hand a reassuring squeeze. As if Carmilla were a child struggling with guilt and the fear of punishment, and not a vampire who’d nearly killed someone in front of her mere moments before.

Carmilla scoffed and shook her head. “I very nearly lost control of myself, sweetness. That should concern you.”

Laura smiled gently and reached up to tuck Carmilla’s loose hair behind her ear. “Should it, though? My concerns are well, my own concern, Carm. And you said it yourself--you _nearly_ lost it. You were pissed as hell, and you still held yourself back. That shows restraint, and strength; not weakness.”

“That’s a… unique view of the situation,” Carmilla said carefully, glancing up again to study Laura’s face for any trace of insincerity. Surely she couldn’t mean that, could she? But nothing in Laura’s manner gave her away; hells, she’d only known Laura for a few days and she was pretty sure the tiny human didn’t have a single insincere bone in her whole body.

After centuries of lies and deceit and Mattie’s games and Maman’s manipulations, Laura was like a breath of fresh air.

It was... puzzling to say the least; very rarely in all her years had anyone given her the benefit of the doubt. Even rarer had been the experience of being trusted, and Laura’s faith in her was almost entirely unprecedented.

“They were obviously trying to push your buttons, and well, no… _lasting_ harm done, right?” Laura shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t happen again we’re all good, Carm. Now, can you promise me that it won’t happen again?”

Carmilla huffed out a soft laugh. Such a strange one, this Laura Hollis.

“It won’t happen again. You have my word on that, whatever it’s worth.”

Laura grinned. “It’s worth enough to me,” she said, and Carmilla couldn’t help but shyly return her smile.

“Come on, let’s go back to our room. I’ve got a secret stash of cookies we can share, and we can swap stories or something. It’ll be like a sleepover!” Laura said, and (with only moderate eye rolling,) Carmilla let herself be led as the tiny human tugged her along by the hand.

 

***

 

Laura plopped down on Carmilla’s bed and then patted the blankets beside her, motioning for the vampire to join her.

“So,” Laura started carefully. “Do you still want to talk about what happened back there?”

“Want? No. Will? Yes,” Carmilla replied, sitting down at the end of the bed, keeping some space between them. While Laura had tried to make her tone light, she could tell that the tiny human was bursting with curiosity.

And she had almost murdered someone right in front of her, in the middle of her place of safety, so a little explanation was warranted.

“I met Sannem shortly after Mother raised me. We would work together--one or both of us would keep watch over Maman’s current target, and then lure them to her when the time came for them to be marked again. We would arrange a way for me to meet them; I would be abandoned at a ball, or I’d mysteriously fall victim to a carriage wreck, and some well-meaning fool of a parent or guardian would take me in. Then I would charm my way into forming a fast friendship with their child, Maman’s target, while Sannem kept watch from the shadows, changing faces as they had to.”

“Should I be concerned that you showed up on my doorstep with an accident, and that your partner in crime showed up shortly after, true to pattern?” Laura teased.

Carmilla shrugged, staring at the floor. “Should you be? Absolutely. Maman has her eye on you, and that can never end well. But my part in her games ended over a hundred years ago. Sannem will take you to her without batting an eye if it serves them best, but if I tried the same I’d be punished quite... severely. Not to mention that doing so would only bring me that much closer to my second death. I’m not allowed near the marks, not anymore.”

“What changed?”

Carmilla glanced up at Laura through her lashes. “I suppose I did,” she murmured, quickly turning back to stare at her boots, kicking back and forth to scuff them along the hardwood floor.

“I didn’t know exactly what it was she was doing, not at first. I still don’t know all the details, honestly. But what I do know is that if she ever finds someone else who survives the third brand, it will mean the end of me. The brands are… some sort of preparation, or purification of sorts. Making us into something different, something _more_ so we can become whatever it is she needs for her ritual. To be marked by Mother is to be marked for Death; even if you initially survive, she intends to sacrifice us for her own ends eventually. But I didn’t learn that until…” Carmilla stopped, a lump forming in her throat.

Laura reached out and gently took Carmilla’s hand in hers.

Carmilla looked down at their joined hands and swallowed thickly.

“Until she killed Elle.”

“You really cared about her,” Laura supplied, squeezing Carmilla’s hand reassuringly.

Carmilla nodded. “I did, once. It was 1872, and at first it was just the game, and she was just another of Maman’s marks. It began much the same as the others had: a carriage wreck, a fast friendship… Only this time, none of it was a lie. And so began my first little rebellion against my mother.”

She huffed out a soft, sad laugh. “I suppose I have a bit of a weakness for pretty brunettes who are entirely too earnest and sweet for their own good,” she said ruefully, trying to make her tone teasing as she glanced up at Laura, absently tracing patterns on the back of her hand with her thumb.

Laura rolled her eyes goodnaturedly and gave Carm’s hand another squeeze, nodding for her to go on.

“I planned our escape and went ahead to make preparations. I hoped putting an ocean between us would keep my mother off our trail. But while I was away, Maman went to Elle in secret. I… had went to great lengths to hide from her what I was. And Maman revealed to her my true nature in the most horrifying light. Elle confronted me, believing me to be a monster, and had led Maman to where I was. Mother took her for the second ritual then and there, while I was forced to watch as it failed, burning the only person I had ever cared about to ash before my eyes.”

Carmilla cleared her throat. “As punishment for my disobedience, Maman sealed me in a coffin full of blood and buried me alive, so that I might waste away my centuries in the silent dark until she found a use for me.”

“It was for my safekeeping, she said.” Carmilla chuckled darkly. Laura’s hand squeezed hers tighter, and she heard the human’s pulse beat faster, the familiar tang of adrenaline in the air as Laura’s righteous anger worked the tiny human into a quiet frenzy on her behalf.  

“For decades I rotted under the earth, until the last great war of the modern world rent the ground with its mines and tanks and bombs. I stumbled off the battlefield in Austria and rose to greet the twentieth century. When Maman found me again in Paris in the 1950’s, she didn’t have the heart to reinter me. Instead I was expressly forbidden from meeting the marks, and she warned me to never stray from her side ever again, the consequences of even considering such disobedience made quite clear to me.”

“And Sannem knew that,” Laura said quietly, her heartbeat thrumming with barely contained indignance in Carmilla’s ears.

“Mmhmm,” Carmilla hummed, not quite sure what else there was to say, and quite frankly exhausted by their conversation.

“Well then that was a real jerk move on their part,” Laura huffed, shocking the vampire into a burst of surprised laughter.

“What? It was!” Laura protested.

“Never said it wasn’t, creampuff,” Carmilla chuckled, not quite able to stop laughing now that she’d started.

Laura smiled back, and eventually Carmilla’s laughing fit tapered off. “Do we really need Sannem’s help to take down your mom?” Laura asked “Because if they’re going to be a little b-bad person about it, I don’t want them around here making trouble for you.”

Carmilla frowned. “I don’t want them around here anymore than you do. And while ‘trusting the demon’ should be literally at the bottom of our list of ideas, if you really want to do this, we're going to need all the help we can get.”

“Of course I do! But… do you? Because after everything she’s put you through, I can totally understand that the idea of actively going against her might be--”

“Oh no, cupcake, if you’re doing this there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take on Mommy Dearest alone,” Carmilla snorted.

“Hey! I do have other friends, you know! I’ll get Laf and JP and the girls to help out too! I’ve already got a corkboard with some basic plans of attack started--” Laura countered, playfully knocking her shoulder into Carm’s.

“I don’t doubt it, buttercup, what with that nauseatingly optimistic sunshine attitude of yours.”

Laura pouted, but Carmilla continued undeterred. “Regardless, you’re going to need my help if we’re going to do this. And for whatever it’s worth… You’ll have it. Whatever I can do,” she promised.

Laura’s face split into a grin. “See! That’s the spirit, Carm! Your mom has no idea what she’s in for now!”

Carmilla shyly returned the smile. “No, I don’t think she does, cupcake.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

"I see you've been busy, cupcake," Carmilla drawled, nodding at the bulletin board covered in construction paper and string like something out of a conspiracy theorist's basement. 

"We have to start somewhere!" Laura retorted. "And the best way to start is to organize all our facts. Which I have done pretty darn well if I do say so myself. Which I do. Because I am myself. And I just said it." 

"It is most helpful having all the information so clearly in one place, Miss Hollis," JP said helpfully. "Your board accomplishes the task quite well."

Laura had dragged Carmilla out of bed in the afternoon to come meet with her friends at the library, and so the surly vampire was seated at a table along with Perry, LaFontaine, and JP. 

Laura beamed. "Thank you, JP." She glared pointedly in Carmilla's direction. "I'm glad  _ somebody _ appreciates my hard work." 

Carmilla was unfazed, and retaliated with a single unimpressed eyebrow raise.  

LaFontaine cleared their throat. "Less passive aggressive-ing at each other, more research," they suggested.

Laura flushed, then shook her head to focus. She smacked the board with a yardstick. "So! Here's what we know so far: there's this evil ancient lady named Lilith, some sort of god or demigod or demon or something. She goes around raising vampires and possibly summoning demons?" She glanced at Carm for clarification. 

Carmilla shrugged. "I'm not a demon, sweetheart. Hell if I know how she keeps Sannem around. They're half-mortal anyways, so I'm not sure if summoning and binding would work the same."

JP frowned. "There's very little literature available on the subject of half-demons, so I am also unable to assist with that matter, I'm afraid." 

"Well! Not important. Let's stick with what we do know, then. So! Lilith, bad lady, also goes around kidnapping mortals and performing some sort of ritual on them that has a ridiculously high mortality rate. Known victims include Carmilla and yours truly," Laura continued. 

"Said ritual gives its surviving recipients special powers, such as increased health and energy, as well as accelerated healing to mimic some form of immortality."

"I had wondered how you managed to survive on that horrible diet of yours, Laura," Perry sniffed. "I swear everything in your fridge is made of glucose and palm oil. You're lucky you don't have scurvy."

LaFontaine snickered at that, but they were quickly silenced when Laura shot them a warning look. 

"Anyways! Those appear to be the effects of the first ritual. The second ritual takes those powers a step farther, throwing super strength and speed into the mix." 

"That sounds awfully vamp-ish," LaFontaine mused. "And considering half our current sample size is well," they glanced apologetically at Carmilla, "a vampire... I've gotta ask, L: have you noticed any cravings for blood? Extra set of super pointy canines? Nocturnal tendencies?"

"No, Laf, I am not becoming a vampire." Laura sighed, then turned to Carmilla. "Am I?"

"You're not dead, creampuff. That's kind of a requirement." 

"Okay... So we should knock that off our list of possibilities, then?" 

Carmilla grunted noncommittally. 

"Right. I'm going to put vampire down as a solid 'maybe,' then." 

"How does this Lilith choose her victims?" JP prompted.

"The requirements seem to be that they're either on the brink of death, or that they have some connection to Death with a capital D," Laura supplied. "Right?" she added, glancing at Carm, who nodded boredly.

“That might be something we can work with, then. There been any studies done on people who’ve gotten cozy with Death and what effect it has on them, Jeep?” LaFontaine prompted. 

JP stiffened, his eyes going blank as he mentally went through the library catalog. “A few studies have been attempted, yes, but the results were… inconclusive at best, unfortunately. They seem to be particularly resilient individuals as a rule, but the studies were never able to truly substantiate those theories or find significant correlation. All of them seemed to concur that mortals surviving Underworld encounters boiled down to mostly luck.”

“One researcher compared the experience to being struck by lightning; while what makes one individual survive such extraordinary circumstances virtually unscathed while others almost certainly would perish in the same situation is a fascinating prospect, and could be recreated in a research setting, the actual testing of such a thing would be… rather unethical.” 

Laura sighed. “I’m gonna take that as a ‘no,’ then.”

LaFontaine grinned and patted her on the back. “Chin up, frosh. Just because nobody’s done it successfully before doesn’t mean we can’t do it ourselves. Since when have little details like that ever put a stop to my experiments?” 

_ “LaFontaine,”  _ Perry chided. “Ethics are not ‘little details,’ dear! What have I said about playing god in the laboratory?” 

LaFontaine sighed. “Not to do it,” they grumbled.

“Exactly.”

“But we have plenty of appropriate subjects right here in the Enclave! It’s not unethical if they  _ volunteer  _ for it, right? If everybody knows what they’re getting into and agrees to it, yeah? I’m sure we can learn something with even just a  _ little bit  _ of minimally invasive probing--”

Carmilla growled. “Come anywhere near me with a needle, Frankenstein, and I’m shoving it up your--”

“Okayyyy then, let’s take it down a notch!” Laura squeaked, hurrying in between them and putting a calming hand on the vampire’s arm. “Laf, we can see about finding  _ willing volunteers  _ for your study later. For now, do we have any idea what this Lilith is? And more importantly, how we can deal with her?”

“She’s a vampire. A really, really old and powerful vampire,” Carmilla supplied.

Laura scoffed. “Well,  _ you’re  _ an old and powerful vampire too, Carm. And no offense, but I’m pretty sure I could take you in a fight. There’s got to be something else in play here.” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You really think you can top me, cupcake?”

Laura grinned wickedly back at her and leaned in close. “Oh, you  _ wish,  _ Karnstein.” 

LaFontaine loudly cleared their throat, and they both jumped apart. 

“Heavy flirting aside, I’m pretty sure vampire isn’t the only box your evil mom lady ticks, right?” 

Perry rubbed her chin, studying Laura’s conspiracy board. “I’m sure it’s possible to be both a vampire and a witch, though I’m not familiar with the sort of ritual this Lilith has been using. It seems like some sort of transfiguration though, if that helps at all.” 

“Miss Karnstein may be an old vampire, but vampires tend to only grow in strength as they mature. Do we have any idea of the approximate age of your mother?” 

Carmilla groaned and rolled her eyes. This ‘meeting’ was going nowhere; the dimwit squad just kept talking in circles and digging up more questions instead of finding answers. 

“Not much of a one. I have a sister, Mattie: she’s well over a thousand. And Maman makes even her look like a fumbling child in comparison. If you all don’t have a desire to end up messily dead, you’re going to have to do better than half-baked theories. It won’t matter how old or what kind of being my mother is if we don’t have anything that can put even a scratch on her,” she said tersely, standing up from the table.

“Maybe we should consider getting Sannem’s help, or at least looking into the Blade of Hastur a bit? Obviously we need all the help we can get, right?” Laura suggested.

“Fine. If you want to make a deal with a snotty, demonic brat, then be my guest, cupcake,” Carmilla said as she stomped away from the table.

“Hey! We just need to consider all our options and--”

“I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up if any of you idiots come up with anything we can  _ actually use,”  _ Carmilla snapped, and then she was out the door.

  
  


***

  
  


_ “You hurt them,” a woman’s voice snarled in her ear as a deep, cold dark descended upon her, like a cloak of black and jagged ice. _

_ It curled around her, bearing down on her shoulders and burdening her simply by existing in the same space as her. It was something she knew beings of great power were capable of, but she had only experienced it before with Maman. _

_ Strange, she thought, how similar being in the presence of an angry god was to dealing with her mother.  _

_“You’re going to have to be more specific. I hurt a lot_ _of people,” Carmilla scoffed. The voice had shivers dancing down her spine, but she forced herself to keep her back straight and her head up._

_ A faceless voice was far than the most frightening thing she had ever faced, after all. But its presence was… different.  _

_ The darkness laughed, a scratching, mirthless sound like a key dragging down a piano wire, the wrongness of it making her ears ache.  _

_ “I’m sure you have, you twice-turned abomination,” it said, laughing again as it coiled tighter around her, choking her. “But I am concerned with only one.” _

_ The darkness swirled, pulling itself in all directions until it took the shape of a humanoid woman, taller and broader than she herself was, her hand wrapped tightly around Carmilla’s neck.  _

**_Sannem._ ** _ The woman meant Sannem, and the resemblance was clear now--the darkness had the same murky, tangible quality that Sannem had, but its form was more refined, with chiseled features and discernible clothes made of shadow that hung off her shoulders that even had shadows and wrinkles as real ones would, as opposed to Sannem’s rather clumsy, vague, and fuzzy shape.  _

_ Of all the rotten possibilities, getting caught after pissing off Sannem’s demonic mother was second only to getting caught by her own Maman.  _

_ “Is this not what you did to them?” she said, amusement layered lightly over frigid fury. “I may be unable to touch Lilith, but you? Her darling, glittering girl? Oh, I could  _ **_destroy_ ** _ you, little one.” _

_ It was just a dream, a specter; and nothing more. She knew that. She was all but immortal due to Maman’s rituals, and safe in Laura’s room at the Enclave regardless. Whatever Sannem’s mother wanted with her, it could do her no real harm here.  _

_ “Good fucking luck with that,” Carmilla coughed, and her hands closed over the demon’s fingers, wrenching them back and shoving the woman away.  _

_ (Odd, Carmilla noticed, distance allowing her to look more closely at the demon, that Sannem’s mother only had the one hand--her other arm ended right at the elbow, a strange detail to miss, considering how intricately formed the rest of the demon’s shape was.)  _

_ “You think you are truly safe there, little Mircalla Karnstein? Because this is a dream? Because you are in another god’s domain? I needn’t lay a finger on you to destroy you, little one,” Sannem’s mother mused, utterly unfazed. “My child has already entered your mind, and where they have gone, I can always follow.” _

_ Entered her mind…?  _

**_Goddammit._ **

_ When Sannem had restored her memories, of-fucking-course. _

_ “I knew I should have killed that fucking brat,” Carmilla muttered darkly. _

_ “You would not still be standing if you had,” the demon said, as if she were casually stating a fact about the weather, or that the sky was blue. _

_ “I could so easily destroy you, little one. I’ve half a mind already to simply do away with you to save myself and my offspring from dealing with the nuisance of your continued existence. Not kill you, of course, Enki’s little library and its oaths of protection wouldn’t allow me that. But your mind? It’s all but mine already. Oh little comtessa, the nightmares I could trap you in would make your ‘mother’s’ punishments for you seem a relative respite.”  _

_ Hells, were all demons so fucking boring and pretentious?  _

_ Carmilla groaned. “Is there a point in all of this, or was your plan simply to bore me to death? Because I hate to break it to you, but it’s not a feasible possibility. I’ve had plenty of time to test out the theory.” _

_ “I am Kuriyn, void made flesh from remnants of the greatest of all starspawn. You are hardly more than a child, nothing but a godling, and a weak one at that. You would still be wise to watch your tongue,” the demon snapped. “Your only redeeming grace is that Sannem may still have a use for you; know that their need for you is all that is staying my hand.” _

_ “I’m a  _ **_what_ ** _ now?”  _

_ Kuriyn studied her curiously. “You hope to oppose Lilith, not even knowing what you are? Great Gods of the Deep, what manner of reckless foolishness is this? Yes, little one, you are a god. One yet in embryo, or infancy, perhaps--but still a god. Truly, did you not know what she was doing to you?”  _

_ “I knew she was changing them--me--somehow, but the how… How can she do that? I didn’t know it was possible to just throw godhood around like that--because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s because of the brand?” _

_ The demon shot her an incredulous look. “Immortality is a gift that can only be bestowed by gods, little one. Like creates like. She is but a shadow of what she once was, but Lilith seems to hope to reclaim her mantle as Inanna, if perhaps only vicariously through you and her other victims. You are not the only god she has bound to her will; you’re simply the only one she has successfully created. But it is not by her power that you were made so. Her godly powers were torn away from her, but she has always been… resourceful,” she said, her hand ghosting over Carmilla’s heart, the vampire flinching away from the touch as it caused the brand to burn.  _

_ Carmilla stepped back, running her fingers through her hair in agitation. “No, she can’t be--Inanna? Ishtar, Astarte, that Inanna? Capricious goddess of love and war? Fuck no--it’s… Dammit. She really is, isn’t she.”  _

_ It certainly fit. Mercurial Maman, who called her precious and beloved, her glittering, diamond girl in one moment, and buried her alive in the next. _

_ Kuriyn nodded. “She is. But it is not her mark you bear, though the morning star is a symbol she has come to use since she has made her new alliances. You bear the mark of the Hungry Light, of Lophiiformes, the Deep One, She Who Devours. It is from her that Lilith now draws her power, and it is from her that the seed of immortality was planted within you. I imagine they have a sort of symbiosis; she offers you a taste of divinity, and those who prove unable to withstand it are devoured by the Deep One’s power, while the few who survive eventually serve your master’s purposes.”  _

_ “Whatever the hell those are,” Carmilla muttered under her breath. She straightened, casting a curious look at the demon. “Why are you telling me all this?” _

_ “Because you will need it to help my Sannem. And you  _ **_will_ ** _ help them, little godling. You have no choice in this matter, not if you wish to see Lilith destroyed.”  _

_ Carmilla bristled. “Is that a threat?” _

_ The demon laughed. “Oh, my dear, fragile, young abomination. If I were threatening you, little one, you would know it.”  _

 

***

 

Carmilla bolted upright in her bed. “Fucking hell…” she grumbled. 

Laura’s head popped out from the bathroom. “Everything okay over there? I hope I didn’t disturb you, I didn’t think you’d be up yet-- _ whoa.  _ What happened to you?” 

“Nothing, just… some weird dreams,” Carmilla replied, her voice still scratchy with sleep as she rubbed her eyes.

“‘Just some weird dreams’ that apparently tried to strangle you in your sleep?” Laura challenged.

Carmilla whipped her head up. “What? How did you…?” 

“You’ve got bruises on your neck, Carm.” 

The vampire was at the bathroom door in an instant, checking her reflection in the mirror.

“Well, shit,” she breathed, reaching up to gingerly feel the ugly purple marks around her neck for herself. The demon’s form--and hand--had been much larger than her own, but the bruises… matched her own hand perfectly. 

Which apparently led Laura to the same conclusion, her eyes widening and a torrent of questions doubtless swirling around in her head already. “Did you--” she started.

“I fucking hate demons,” Carmilla groaned, cutting her off.

“Demons? Did Sannem do this to you? Can they even  _ do _ that?”

“Apparently their  _ mother  _ can,” Carmilla muttered.

“Oh. Their mother? Well, they’re a half-demon, so naturally that means they have to have one demon parent, or well, maybe two  _ other  _ half-demon parents--”

“It’s the former. Trust me on that one.”

Laura frowned, her brow furrowing adorably in concern. “She hurt you. No one should have been able to hurt you here. I promised you’d be safe here, but apparently that’s not the case--”

“Breathe, cupcake,” the vampire reminded her. “From the looks of it, she made me do it to myself. Must be some kind of loophole in your little Enclave’s magic.”

Her tone softened. “It’s not your fault, Laura. This’ll be healed in an hour or two, tops. You don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Carmilla shrugged. “A demon visited me in my sleep, tried to strangle me, then dumped a bunch of bullshit on me about my mother and threatened me if I didn’t help out her bratty kid. So basically, a day ending in y.”

“Wait, she gave you information? Did she give you anything we can use?”

“Not really, just dropped the bomb that Lilith is  _ a fucking god. _ ”

“What.”

“Yep.”

“Are you serious right now? Because if you’re joking--”

“Nope. She’s a god. Or was one. It wasn’t exactly clear. At the very least she  _ used  _ to be Inanna, and the brands are apparently some form of baby godhood.”

“Okay then.” Laura gulped, and took a deep breath. “So that’s… a thing. Well, we should probably find Sannem then, right? Because JP did some digging, and well, if we’re going to be taking on a god, then that Blade of Hastur thing is our best shot.”

_ Great. Just great,  _ Carmilla thought with another groan.

  
  



End file.
